


Together We Aren't So Alone

by MongooseToeBeans



Series: A Very Special Guest [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, Crack, Established Relationship, Established Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Murder Husbands, Rimming, Smut, Spanking, Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Weddings, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter, murder as a wedding present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:35:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28680462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MongooseToeBeans/pseuds/MongooseToeBeans
Summary: Hannibal and Will have finally reached an understanding and are now happy murder husbands living in their newly-renovated home in Wolf Trap, killing together after framing Dr. Sutcliffe as the Chesapeake Ripper. Abigail is at school in Scotland, and Hannibal would like to show Will Italy.Second part to my first fic, A Very Special Guest. Though not absolutely necessary to enjoy and read this fic, it is highly encouraged for context of their relationship.*MCD is not one of the murder family and will take place in the last chapter. You won’t lose any plot if you choose not to read this chapter.*
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: A Very Special Guest [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098410
Comments: 59
Kudos: 140





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note the MCD in archive warnings, though it will NOT be Hannibal, Will, or Abigail :) it will be the last chapter, in case you want to read everything up until then (you wouldn’t be missing any plot really).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is much closer to crack than the first part of the story was! I knew what I wanted to happen in this part, but I happened upon a really anxious yet very bratty Will Graham and I could not refuse his whims.
> 
> Be sure to check out the tags as I update this as they may change and I don’t want you to be surprised at anything in this! Be safe :)

Hannibal and Will each gave Abigail one last hug at the Edinburgh Airport. Unlike the first time they dropped her off here, there were no tears. This visit, the tears had only threatened to surface as they watched Abigail on campus, ridiculously pleased and in her element like they had never seen. She introduced them to her friends and showed them her favorite spot on the lawn and her dorm, small but sprinkled with heartwarming touches of their influence. Now, they were both just happy to see Abigail happy. 

The first part of their trip now done, Hannibal and Will had a month more of exploration, mostly in Italy. It was their first trip together, and Hannibal was determined to make it perfect and to keep Will entertained. Will thought Hannibal’s desperate need to please him with Europe (as if it or Hannibal could ever _disappoint_ him) was cute, and he always made sure to enjoy the rare occasions in which Hannibal was simply _cute_.

On their flights from Edinburgh to Florence, Hannibal recounted every favorite site in Florence, and several throughout Italy only a train ride away gauging Will’s interest in each. Will didn’t interrupt, giving only appropriate responses and leading questions to keep Hannibal on his impassioned spiel.

“In Palermo, which is in Sicily, there is the Norman Chapel, which is the foyer of my memory palace.”

Will perked up. “Oh? What’s it look like?”

Hannibal had only recently told Will about his memory palace and the concept was intriguing to him. The idea of having some form of _organization_ up there was appealing considering how his thoughts and memories tended to be a big jumble, one thing connected to the next, with no barriers. And, he naturally wanted to know more about Hannibal’s mind, which he thought was elegant in its carefully ordered chaos, similar to how he knew Hannibal was captivated by Will's conversely unruly mind.

Hannibal was flattered by the interest. “This building is a mixture of Byzantine, Norman, and Fatimid architectural styles, evidence of the state of Sicily’s cultural affairs in the 12th century. Severe and beautiful and timeless, with a single reminder of mortality: a skull graven in the floor.”

Will closed his eyes and let himself envision it.

“We can see it in person, if you’d like,” Hannibal said, admiring Will’s effort behind closed eyes. When Will just nodded, Hannibal continued.

“If I were ever apprehended, I would live there. In my memory palace.”

Will’s eyes snapped open. “Not without me, you wouldn’t. Stop deluding yourself into thinking you can go anywhere without me following.”

Hannibal knew exactly too well how Will hated it when Hannibal spoke of making a martyr of himself, so he didn’t argue. Instead he just smiled and felt once more how fiercely he ached to claim and protect Will. To make him his. Permanently. It was Will’s fault, after all, for speaking in such absolutes of their joining.

Will suppressed a shiver under Hannibal’s gaze. On the surface it could be interpreted as adoring, and it certainly was, but more than that it was truly hungry and terrifying in a primal way Will can only ignore because he knows the meaning behind it. Hannibal had been looking at him like that with increasing fervor for a few weeks leading up to the summer break and their trip. He couldn’t put a pin on what Hannibal was thinking when he saw it.

A day later, during their dinner at a rooftop restaurant the first night in Florence, Will figured it out.

Will had set his utensils down and stopped eating at some point, transfixed by the horizon. Everything was encased in the soft blue of early evening, after the sunset and before nightfall, cast over the red and orange tones of the buildings, and it was nothing like the skyline of any city he had seen before. There was only the soft glow of illuminated windows and yellow street lights reflected in the water like in an oil painting. The Duomo, which Hannibal had pointed out to him, stood out among the other buildings, lit up by spotlights on the ground, but still seeming dark and blue, like a resting giant. Everything seemed so much more purposeful, and yet natural at the same time. Nothing like New Orleans or any other American city he had seen.

“It’s beautiful,” he said.

He tore his eyes away to catch Hannibal’s reaction, only to find Hannibal was looking right at him, and seemed like he hadn’t bothered to take even a glance at the skyline Will had just been admiring. Instead, Hannibal caught him in another intense gaze. This one was possessive, as they all were, but what was shocking was just how _enamored_ it was.

Of course, Will knew that Hannibal loved him. Hannibal told him so. Will felt it near constantly in their interactions. For another moment it was impossible to put his finger on what was different about the way Hannibal was looking at him right then, but then it hit him.

This look was _decisive._ Determined. To have him. And not just in the way they usually possessed each other.

 _Oh._ Hannibal was going to propose.

Not now, right? No, definitely not. He’d know if he was being proposed to… wouldn’t he?

Stupid. Of course he’d know, this is _Hannibal_ , after all. When he decided to propose, surely he’d have a speech prepared. Instead he was just pinning Will to the spot with how incredibly sure he was about it.

Will flushed, the realization catching him off guard, and if Hannibal noticed, he gave no indication.

* * *

From then on, from one site to the other over the next couple of weeks, Will was always watching Hannibal out of the corner of his eye, wondering if this would be the moment. The fact that Hannibal was always watching him, too, was only a little unnerving.

Outside of the Palazzo Capponi, from behind Will, Hannibal asked, “Would you wait a moment, darling?”

Will froze. He slowly turned around to look back at Hannibal, silently cursing himself for letting Hannibal out of his peripheral vision, and therefore being unprepared for the moment. His breath left him at the sight of Hannibal, in the middle of the plaza, head bowed and down on one knee. One glance and he had to dart his eyes away to regain his composure and try to stop blushing so goddamn furiously.

Hannibal looked up to see Will determinedly not looking at him. “Will? What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing,” Will said as he forced himself to tear his gaze away from one of the columns.

He finally looked at Hannibal and sighed every heavy ounce of anxiety out of him, instead filling with embarrassment. Hannibal finished delicately tying his leather laces and gracefully stood back up.

“Are you sure? You look flushed.” Hannibal noted the way Will’s eyes darted away when Hannibal raised a hand to feel the temperature at his forehead.

Will turned away from the hand to avoid the warm touch causing him to heat any further. “I’m fine.”

Hannibal made an unhappy noise but didn’t argue and they continued to make their way back. Hannibal did that on purpose, Will was sure of it. He had noticed the way Will was watching him and he decided to test his hypothesis, and had obviously gotten it right. Damn him.

Will thought he must have ruined the surprise. Knowing how much Hannibal valued presentation, everything always a spectacle, a performance, Will knowing he was planning a proposal must surely have tarnished part of his plan, right? Oh God, what if now Hannibal decided to wait because of it? Or even worse, he just decided against it completely? And now it would be put on _him_ to propose to Hannibal? Fuck. 

If _Will_ were the one to propose, he’d probably fuck it up so royally Hannibal would refuse. Or he’d just offend him by taking too mundane a route. He simply had to get Hannibal to propose. He had to be _irresistible._

Thankfully it was summer, so Will’s change in modesty could be accredited to the heat. At the apartment they stayed at, Will determinedly wore as little as possible, walking around only in Hannibal’s robe, untied and completely open in the front, leaving his own ignored in the closet. When all that provoked was extra hunger in Hannibal’s gaze and more surprise sex-- which Will decided to count as a small success, despite it not being his goal --Will had to up the ante.

From his spot on the couch where he employed a new favorite tactic of propping his book up just in front of his dick, prompting Hannibal to look at it if he wanted to know what Will was reading, Will suddenly rose. Hannibal looked up to watch him from an armchair as Will shed the robe and headed towards the glass doors to the balcony.

“I think I’m going to get some air. And maybe some sun. Let me know if you need me.”

Will added a little extra swing to his hips as he strode to the door and then closed it behind him. That Hannibal didn’t respond was already a good sign, and Will hoped it was out of shock. He now stood on the balcony, extended out from the building and high, but not high enough that you couldn’t make out people on the streets below. Hannibal Lecter did not skimp on views, especially when taking his Will to Florence for this first time.

Humility nowhere to be found in this city full of people Will didn’t know, he stood in front of half of Florence without a shred of clothes on, and with only a thin fencing keeping slivers of him modest. He pretended to observe the view while he really focused on pushing his ass out _just so_ and straining his ears to uncover any sign of movement from inside the apartment.

When Hannibal didn’t come out to the balcony to beg him to get away from there or to put on some damn clothes, he huffed his exasperation. Fine. He’d just have to push him some more. 

Carefully, he hoisted himself up onto the railing and moved his legs over to the other side, so that he was sitting on the edge and letting his feet dangle in the soft breeze. The height wasn’t enough to scare him, having spent a lot of his childhood climbing trees to escape bullies and responsibilities. He figured he was already tempting fate by knowingly living with a cannibalistic serial killer.

Finally, the rough rustling of furniture being carelessly thrown back sounded from inside the building and he bit back a smug smile. The door whipped open and Will schooled an innocently curious look on his face and glanced back at Hannibal in the opening, eyes full of absolute fury he’d never been on the receiving end of.

“Will,” Hannibal growled. “Get down from there.”

He ignored just how terrifying Hannibal was, despite not raising his voice, and answered, “Hmm. I don’t think I will. Feels nice.”

“Will,” Hannibal warned again.

“Maybe you should come up here, too. Come feel the breeze with me.”

“Could you at least put on some underwear? I don’t want the polizia knocking on our door, Will. Not to mention you could fall.”

Will laughed over his shoulder before looking back out at the city. “You’d think you’d want me tanned all over, for _aesthetical_ reasons.”

“ _Will!_ ” Hannibal snapped. “Come inside.”

Tucking his chin under his shoulder and gazing up through lax lashes, Will whispered, “Make me.”

The coy display worked, despite being the opposite of subtle. Hannibal growled and padded towards him before looping an arm under his knees and swinging Will back over the railing into his arms. A whistle and a whoop were heard from the street below and Hannibal set his jaw before taking Will inside, deciding against looking back to see who had seen his Will. If he had done so, Will would certainly find out about their murders and not approve.

Will hid a smirk at the show of possessiveness as Hannibal carried Will bridal style all the way to their bedroom before unceremoniously tossing him onto the bed. Though Will’s plan was ultimately to provoke a sense of ownership in Hannibal so strong that he couldn’t resist proposing to him, he knew that that result would come later regardless and that this, Hannibal prowling at the edge of the bed fully clothed while he lay sprawled and open, was always going to be the immediate expression of Hannibal’s possession.

“You’ve been toying with me, Will.”

“Hmm? Have I?” Will pretended to relax, shutting his eyes and resting his head back onto the bed.

He ignored the sounds of Hannibal pacing at the end of the bed and listened for the sound of unfastening pants, but it did not come.

“You have. To what end, I am not sure, but I can’t let this behavior go _unpunished_ , darling.”

Will shot upright, mouth agape. “Punished?”

Hannibal hummed and the corners of his lips hinted at a smile at Will’s shock.

“It’s only fair, Will. Distracting and taunting me with your body every chance you get. Exposing yourself to bystanders on the streets.”

Will swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Um. What did you have in mind?”

Hannibal smiled and offered no immediate response. He sat down at the end of the bed. “Come here, darling,” he said.

Will hesitated before crawling back to the edge and sat next to Hannibal, a blush slowly rising through his chest and cheeks and his cock twitching in interest.

Hannibal looked at it and smiled approvingly. Then, before Will could even process what was happening, Hannibal grabbed Will and whipped him around to face down across his lap with swift grace. Suddenly, Will found himself looking at the floor and took account of his body. He writhed a bit, but Hannibal’s hands along his shoulder blades and the backs of his thighs held him in place, and he moaned at the friction and the realization that his dick lay between Hannibal’s clothed thighs.

“I was thinking twenty would be fair, given how long I have let this go on. Do you agree?”

Will found himself at an utter loss for words. Every intake of breath rubbed his stomach against the fabric of Hannibal’s pants, reminding him just how fully exposed he was to his lover who remained dressed. He felt the pleasant humiliation pass through him as he imagined what he must look like, ass in the air, as if in offering. They had never done this before, but to deny his interest in the situation would be lying, and Hannibal could surely tell as his erection continued to grow.

Still unable to speak, Will remembered to give some sort of answer and slowly nodded. He felt Hannibal purr his pleasure above him. Will awaited the first strike and startled at the first contact. But, it was just a touch, a soft caress along his backside, Hannibal showing his appreciation of the blank canvas before him before he started his work. Will keened and pressed back against the tantalizing rough fingertips.

The hold on his shoulder blades tightened, and then the hand on his ass was gone. He sucked in a breath only to have it leave him the next second as Hannibal’s hand came down hard and slapped him. He gasped and jolted in Hannibal’s grip, and even as the hand left him, he could still make out where each of the five fingers had landed.

“I want you to count to ten for me,” Hannibal explained, voice unaffected.

Will was certain Hannibal had said twenty, before, but simply started counting. “One.”

Another hit came down and hit the opposite cheek, and Will gasped out, “Two.”

Hannibal traced the outline of that one slowly, admiring the color before rapidly planting two more in the same spot.

“Three! Four!”

Will’s head was light, which could have something to do with how he was partially upside-down, but he knew it had more to do with his arousal. With every strike, he couldn’t stop himself from jolting forward and pressing his now-hard cock against Hannibal’s leg.

He faintly heard a pleased sound as Hannibal pressed one finger lightly to the center of the spot that had just been hit thrice. Then, Hannibal dragged the finger to the cleft of his ass and trailed along it. Will made a keening noise and tried to press himself into Hannibal’s hand, only to be met with a tutting sound.

Hannibal removed the hand and slapped Will right in the center, his large hand covering an impressive area on Will’s plump ass.

Will barely got out “Five!” before Hannibal struck the neglected cheek and he found himself moaning out, “Six!” and then “Seven!”

Fingertips achingly light in contrast to the harsh slaps, Hannibal traced along each mark, pleased with Will’s reactions and with his own artistry. He took the stabilizing hand from Will’s back and used both to knead at the tender muscle and fat, and then Will was groaning in pleasure. He hardly noticed when the kneading turned into spreading.

Then Hannibal’s fingers, wound tight together to fit the space, came down and hit his hole, and Will howled with the combination of pain and pleasure.

“Oh, God! Fuck, eight!”

Will struggled to recover his breath and gave up when Hannibal started to circle his hole with the same cruelly light touch. He squirmed as much as he could to press back, trying to find purchase in the form of Hannibal’s fingers in his entrance.

Hannibal sighed, “Lovely, naughty boy. So eager.” And he slapped Will’s hole again.

“H-hannibal, fuck! Nine, Hannibal _please_...”

“Please, what, my dear Will?” he asked as his fingers started to circle the throbbing hole again, the tip of one finger pausing to tease half a centimeter inside. “Is this what you’ve been wanting from me?”

“I-I don’t know, just God, please hit me again.”

Hannibal chuckled. “Of course, darling.”

And Will got his wish with one more strike, again delivered directly to his wanting hole. It seemed to be connected directly to every nerve ending to his body and he went off on a string of curses after counting it the tenth hit. He felt his cock leaking onto Hannibal’s nice pants and felt the hot realization that the stain would be the only visible evidence of Hannibal’s ruin, while he was practically sobbing, ass surely bright-red.

After Will stopped cursing and just panted, Hannibal lifted him and placed him on his lap, and Will squirmed, trying to find a comfortable place to rest his painful flesh, finding none.

Hannibal cupped Will’s face and thumbed away the tear that wetted the bottom of Will’s lashes. He caressed Will’s forehead with a kiss and whispered, “You’ve been such a good boy for me, Will.”

Will keened at the praise and sought Hannibal’s lips, but Hannibal leaned just out of reach. He smiled down at Will’s disappointed gaze, and reminded him, “We’re only halfway done, dear. Are you ready for the rest of your punishment?”

“Oh, God,” Will moaned with the flush of anticipation, not sure if the pain would start to exceed the pleasure with the amount of slaps he’d already gotten doubled.

Hannibal shushed him and finally gave him a brush against his lips, again achingly light when Will just wanted to push his lips against his and wrestle tongues. But, the kiss was just light, as were the fingers combing through Will’s hair in a calming gesture. “Shh, it’s okay, Will. You’ve done so well for me, and I know you’re going to take the rest like a good boy, too, yes?”

Will whimpered and nodded again. Hannibal kissed him once more before manhandling Will to his hands and knees further up the bed. He waited there as he felt Hannibal’s weight shift off the bed, and he thought Hannibal must be taking account of his work and memorizing Will in this position, prostrate and waiting.

Moments later, Hannibal came back onto the bed and crawled behind Will. Will’s gaze remained steadfastly forward, as he wasn’t sure he wanted to be able to see the hits before they came. Hannibal shifted a bit closer again and Will thought he felt Hannibal’s skin brush against his own bare legs, and he wondered at how he didn’t hear Hannibal take off his pants, but he must have. While processing the thought, a finger abruptly breached him. It was slick with lube, but the shock of it was enough to startle Will into losing his hold on the bed. He fell down to his forearms, leaving his ass pointed up and back.

He moaned as the finger continued to penetrate him, pushing lube deeper and deeper inside of him, and he pushed back to meet it, chasing the release he hadn’t been sure was on the table. Hannibal hummed his pleasure at the sight and feel of him as he smoothed over the reddened skin with his other hand. Soon another finger joined the first, and then a third, and Will was surprised at how quickly he found himself stretched and ready.

As soon as he felt himself relax to the third finger, Hannibal’s tip-- he definitely _was_ naked, then --lined up with his entrance before slowly inching in. Hannibal moaned at the feeling of finally being enveloped by Will and delighted in the sight of Will’s tortured rim, which looked more pleasantly abused than ever before, yet was opening beautifully just for him.

Hannibal pushed in until he bottomed out and grazed Will’s prostate, causing another onslaught of moans from the man underneath. After both adjusted to the tightness and the heat, they built up a punishing rhythm, Will doing most of the work as he desperately pushed back, meeting Hannibal’s shallow thrusts.

“Count to ten, again, Will,” was all the warning he got before Hannibal surprised Will by hitting his ass again.

He gasped out a high noise of pleasure, and _God_ it was even better than before. The slaps were expertly timed and were hardly felt on the surface but seemed to reverberate inside him where Hannibal continued his relentless rhythm. Will only had enough brainpower to continue counting the hits and to beg Hannibal for more.

After eight, Will stopped pushing back as much, simply basking in the pleasure, and Hannibal picked up the pace, and met Will’s hips with deep thrusts that grazed his prostate every time.

When strike nine was administered on Will’s balls, the man shouted “Fuck!” and thought he must already be coming.

“ _Nine,_ Hannibal, fuck fuck _fuck_!”

Hannibal draped himself over Will’s back to grumble in his ear, “Be a good boy and come with number ten, okay, Will?”

Will moaned and buried his head in the sheets, every punishing push into his prostate threatening to tip his orgasm over the edge, but he waited obediently for the tenth.

The tenth was a harsh slap right along the length of his cock and he shouted Hannibal’s name in pain and pleasure, and he came as Hannibal immediately soothed the ache by stroking along the shaft. Each spurt of his come was accompanied by a needy little moan that Will was too gone to be embarrassed about, until he felt depleted and exhausted. Will felt Hannibal spilling into him simultaneously and couldn’t hold his ass up anymore. They both sank down onto the bed, and Hannibal rested his weight upon Will until his ass was too sore and he made a noise of complaint.

Hannibal moved off of him to nuzzle against Will’s side and reward him by brushing sweaty curls off of his forehead and pressing tender kisses into his lips. Will kissed back and dozed off thinking about the unexpectedly pleasurable results of his acting out, trying not to worry about whether or not it had any effect on Hannibal’s plans to propose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! I appreciate all of you <3


	2. Chapter 2

After Will’s plan seemed to have no immediate consequences, Will relaxed his efforts a bit, deciding if Hannibal wanted to marry him, he must be irresistible enough to the man as he is. So when they took a trip to Sicily for a few days, Will gave up on gauging reactions and was not watching Hannibal’s every move. He failed to notice the rapturous looks cast when he walked ahead, the possessive body language, or the proud gazes when Will commented on the artwork and architecture. He even missed the tears of adoration threatening to spill when Will quoted Dante in reference to a sculpture, unknowingly a favorite of Hannibal’s, but they were willingly brought to his attention when Hannibal grasped his hand. Startled slightly by Hannibal’s nonverbal response, Will looked up at Hannibal and felt himself melt into a smile. The joy he felt was still overwhelming when he saw Hannibal completely let his guard down and expose himself fully, especially in public. Not that anyone else but Will could read anything somehow wrong about Hannibal, still the vulnerability they shared was frightfully intimate and always stopped Will in his tracks.

When they arrived at the Norman Chapel in Palermo, Will was pleased that Hannibal wanted him to explore it a bit by himself first. It felt like a rare opportunity to peer inside Hannibal’s mind without him present, something like a gift. He took slow, deliberate steps, examining every tile on the ground beneath him, cataloging it in the beginnings of his own memory palace, and spending the most time taking in the art overhead. Though this chapel was far superior to any other Will had ever been in, he was reminded of the last time he was in a church, when he made his way down the aisle, just as he was doing now. What he saw and felt upon entering had immediately told him everything he needed to know, and suddenly, he had _seen_ Hannibal, and he had received Hannibal’s broken heart, the first gift.

Now, he walked down the center of the room that served as the foyer of Hannibal’s memory palace, with absolutely no trepidation this time. Now, he knew Hannibal infinitely better and felt not like an intruder, but like he was moving in-- no. _Coming home_.

He reached the skull graven on the floor before the altar, similar in placement to where the heart he found in Baltimore had been. This room seemed to welcome him, which was ironic considering Will considered himself one of the least godly people on Earth. After a few moments, a warm presence at his back felt like home even more so than the chapel itself.

“It’s divine, Hannibal,” Will whispered as he leaned back, his head finding Hannibal’s shoulder.

Hannibal’s arms wrapped around him as he purred, “I’m so glad you think so, my love.”

Both of them could look into the dark recesses of Hannibal’s mind and memories with no fear. Will found himself enraptured by all he saw in the man and Hannibal didn’t block Will out from his most precious thoughts. He _wanted_ to be seen.

Eventually Will realized they had been standing in the prominent spot for too long and were probably aggravating other tourists. Still, he hesitated a moment and thought this would be a beautiful moment for either of them to propose. Of course, he hadn’t planned on it, and had no ring to offer Hannibal, but the thought that once they parted from the embrace, the possibility was there that Hannibal could propose, _right now_ , had Will’s heart suddenly racing. Certain that Hannibal would feel his pulse accelerate, he spun out of his hold.

Once free, he smiled shyly at Hannibal, trying not to seem expectant. When Hannibal just returned the satisfied smile and made no telling moves to a jacket pocket or anything, Will sighed and turned away nonchalantly to hide his disappointment. If Hannibal was going to propose romantically and dramatically surely that would have been the moment, right? Unless he was planning something even _more_ perfect. Something in his gut dropped when Will thought of the possibility that he’d gotten his wires crossed and had only realized his _own_ desire to marry Hannibal and wrongly perceived it as Hannibal’s.

Will had unspoken cues that told Hannibal whether or not he wanted to talk about what was bothering him, so when he saw Will fiddling with the hair behind his ear and pushing up phantom glasses, he knew that Will didn’t want to be pulled from his thoughts. Hannibal wasn’t happy with not knowing what he was thinking, but let it go for the time being.

* * *

The rest of the trip Will just forced himself to forget about the whole thing, lest he be gloomy and get into it with Hannibal. He wouldn’t ruin this, especially knowing how long Hannibal had wanted to show him Europe. He could worry about all of it when they got back, and if he needed to be in charge of the proposal, he could do it, as soon as he got used to the idea.

One evening, when they were back at the apartment in Florence, Hannibal cooked them dinner, because he could only tolerate mild culinary infractions for so long.

The comfortable silence while eating was interrupted by Hannibal, who asked, “Do you keep in touch with your father, Will?” before taking a measured sip of his wine.

Will coughed and hastily grabbed his napkin to maintain his dignity. “Why?”

Hannibal’s lips hinted at a frown. “Will you not allow me to be curious?”

Will quickly went through the vestige of defensiveness before catching himself and sighing. “I’m sorry. Old habits. We don’t talk, but he knows where I live. Where _we_ live. And I know where he is, unless he’s moved since.”

“I see,” Hannibal said, purposefully spacing out the next question with a breath, “Would you be averse to inviting him to visit us?”

This time, Will was more prepared for another question about his father, but he wasn’t quite expecting _that_. He nearly dropped his fork before catching it again and setting it down gently. 

“You want to meet him.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do.”

Will took in a deep breath. He hadn’t seen his father in nearly a decade. It wasn’t that they didn’t love each other, but it was more like the kind of love you have for distant family. Because that’s what they were. Distant. Will grew up in close proximity to him, but mostly during sleeping hours more than anything else, due to his work schedule. The man just didn’t get Will from early on and gave up on trying, and became little more than his legal guardian title. When Will moved out and started paying for his own life, their relationship was less strained since they only had to occasionally check up on each other. They’d call, usually on Will’s birthdays and answer basic questions before being satisfied and going their own ways again. They had only spoken on the phone since Will moved to Wolf Trap.

“Alright. I can’t promise he’ll want to come.”

Hannibal immediately looked pleased, but was hiding it. “I can offer to pay for his travel expenses, if that will help.”

Will shook his head. “He won’t like that. Besides, he’s got some money. He just doesn’t have much cause to spend it.”

“What better reason than to visit you?” Hannibal reached across the table to offer his hand. Will took it and offered him a small smile.

* * *

Soon, their month-long romp through Europe had finished and they returned to their home in Wolf Trap. After they fetched the dogs from the boarder and Hannibal swept himself up into a dusting frenzy, Will made his way to Hannibal’s study to call his father. Although arguably the most eclectic room in the house, it was the one with the most of Hannibal’s favorite things, and Will found being surrounded by them calmed him.

He had thought a lot about the many ways this conversation would go. His father had never communicated a wish to see Will, but indifference didn’t mean he would be opposed. He fantasized about what his father would think of Hannibal, and if Hannibal’s idiosyncrasies would perturb him or amuse him. He imagined his father’s laugh, seldom heard, shared with him. The alternatives were less savory, but equally possible, it seemed. He could clearly predict where in his body he would feel the sting of rejection. Or, his father would begrudgingly accept, and find himself embarrassed of his son and the life he’s made for himself. Will knew he’d feel that sting almost as painfully as when he thought Hannibal had been cheating on him.

The potential pain didn’t seem worth calling, but he remembered how delighted Hannibal seemed at Will agreeing to invite him. So, Will pressed his finger to the man’s contact, which was saved as a favorite on his phone despite being one of the least called numbers.

The phone trilled three times in his ear and Will thought he wouldn’t answer. Whether the man was busy or just couldn’t be bothered, it felt the same to him.

“Hello?”

Will sucked in a breath and broke out in a crooked smile before returning to his placid face. “Hi, Dad.”

“Is everything alright?” His father sounded like he just woke up, and Will imagined the man passed out on a recliner nursing beers after work.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.”

There was a pause. “Well, uh, what’s up, Will?”

Right. He was supposed to ask him to _come visit_. He didn’t know how to make that sound any less crazy to his dad than it sounded to him.

“Well, um,” Will immediately found himself emulating his speech patterns. “I was wondering-- well, no. We were wondering how you’d feel about coming to visit.”

“Who’s we?”

Will cursed at himself. “Oh! Sorry. Me and my, uh, partner.”

He found himself wanting to explain himself but instead waited for questions, afraid he’d just spill and say way too much.

“Okay.”

Will froze. “Okay? Just like that? You’ll come?”

“If you want me to, sure. You want me to, Will?” His dad responded just as mildly as if Will had asked him to borrow $5 for groceries.

Will felt his shoulders come down from his ears, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then I will. Just let me know when and what kind of arrangements I’ll need to make.”

“Okay. I will. Thanks, Dad.”

“I look forward to seeing you, kiddo.” And his father hung up.

Will’s arm with the phone in it fell down from his ear in disbelief. His father hadn’t called him “kiddo” since he could remember. His goodbye had been borderline sentimental, as sentimental as he got, anyway. He felt a broad grin stretching across his face, and he fled out of the room and down the stairs to find Hannibal reaching up to dust the top bookshelf in the living room, then turning to acknowledge Will.

The smile on Will’s face told Hannibal everything he needed to know, but he stepped away from the bookshelf and asked anyway, feeling a matching expression forming on his face. “He agreed?”

“Yes,” Will said, sounding almost breathless. “When?”

Hannibal set down the duster and moved to Will, extending his arms and nuzzling into the curls when Will came to him and allowed himself to be wrapped up in the warmth. “I was rather hoping soon. Perhaps next week, even?”

Will’s eyes widened. “So soon?”

Hannibal grinned, hidden to Will whose face was tucked into his neck. “If possible, of course. There are a number of things I would like to do before the end of the summer when your time will be much more limited, and meeting your father is among them.”

Hannibal having extensive plans for their summer made much more sense to him than deciding on the visit on a whim. Will felt a stir of anticipation in his gut and retorted, “He might not be able to get off work so soon. Or find a cheap flight.”

“If you want, I can work out the details with him.”

Will pulled back in Hannibal’s embrace to look him in the eye. “No, no. It’s probably best if I do. I’ll talk with him again, ask what he thinks. He might splurge on the flight if he knows we have a guest room.” He thought about the room, unoccupied since Abigail left for Scotland. “It’s just strange he’ll be the first one to use it other than Abigail. I always thought it’d be Beverly or somebody if they got too drunk to go home.”

Hannibal smiled and placed a kiss on Will’s cheek. “I like the idea of our home being open at all times to those you love.” He moved to kiss the other cheek. “Even if that is impractical given our extra-curricular activities.”

Will laughed, “Are you talking about the sex, or the murder?”

“Both, of course.”

Will’s smile started to ache at his cheeks. As stunning and perfect their trip to Europe had been, it must have just put him off his stride. Here, in their home, he could remember there was truly nothing to worry about, and that he was just happy to be with Hannibal. It seemed silly now to fret about a proposal. The legal status of their union was inconsequential, and if either of them decided they wanted that, there was no reason to stress about it.

For now, Will was more than content to just be in the home they made together. Now he just had to deal with the reality of his father in it. Possibly next week. _Meeting Hannibal. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I find the chapter count quickly ticking up, lol. Thank you guys so much for reading!! Please let me know what you think :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Chapters might come out on Mondays or Tuesdays for the rest of the fic as it’s better for me to have Sunday as a work day this semester. Hope y’all understand :)
> 
> Idk if it’s fanon or not that Will’s dad is named Beau but I feel like I’ve read enough fics where it is that that’s what it is in my head, so that’s his name here :P

After taking a few extra days off to adjust to the jetlag, Hannibal started going back to work, much to his own dismay. He relished spending time with Will during his time off, but one could not reasonably expect the patients of Hannibal’s practice to wait the entire summer to resume their therapy. Will took the time alone to clean up the house and get it ready to receive a guest. Thanks to Hannibal’s enthusiastic and efficient planning, Will pointed his father to the most cost-effective round trip through Dulles International and told him about their guest room. He explained that there was no pressure to come as soon as they suggested, but to his surprise, his father agreed, with no stipulations or comments on the hastiness of the visit.

So, only four days after the plans were made, Will was picking his father up from the airport. It was certainly a strange feeling, considering this was more than just meeting up if they chanced upon being in the same city, as they had when Will was a much younger adult. This was a deliberate meeting, and Will knew he would be relying on his empathy to dictate his behavior.

Hannibal had insisted he should be there, too, but Will told him not to cancel his appointments and that they would meet in the evening for dinner. Hannibal didn’t easily relent, but ultimately let himself be convinced by those eyes that he could never say no to.

Will had expressed uncertainty to Hannibal as to why his father would agree to the trip, wondering if his father was only complying out of some feeling of guilt or obligation, and despite Hannibal’s assurances, he didn’t feel his doubts slip away until he saw the man emerging from the Arrivals area. As soon as he saw the unmistakable warm crinkle around his dad’s soft blue eyes when he approached Will, he felt a shy smile stretching across his features. 

“Hi, Dad,” Will greeted him as he stepped to meet him halfway. He contemplated embracing him, but hesitated.

“Will, good to see you,” said Beau Graham, looking worse for wear after the flight out of Baton Rouge, and Will supposed it also had to do with the fact that the man was much older than he had been the last time he saw him. His hair had mostly grayed with only hints of its former brown, and he wore glasses reminiscent of Will’s, though Will hardly wore them anymore.

Easily assessing the sentiment as sincere, Will shoved down the surprised pleasure he felt, fearing the vulnerability of expressing it, and maneuvered himself back into the same kind of business-only mode he had had around his father when he was a kid with a quick reply, “You, too. Did you check any bags?”

“Nope,” Beau answered, lifting the small carryon in his hand. “Just this.”

Judging by the unsullied fabric, Will immediately gathered that the bag was brand new, purchased only for this trip. Knowing his father didn’t usually travel except in his truck up and down the Mississippi, and then with most of his things tied down in the truck bed, he smiled at the exception made for him. He led his father to his car, and on the drive they engaged in little more than small talk, opting for comfortable silence in their anticipation. This was probably for the best, Will thought, as at dinner, Hannibal would surely lead the conversation. Watching the two get to know each other, for better or for worse, would definitely be interesting. He couldn’t decide whether or not Hannibal’s charms would work on his dad, who was an assuredly unusual type compared to the Baltimore and Washington D.C. professionals Hannibal primarily engaged with.

“Is that your partner’s car?” Beau asked about the pristine Bentley upon pulling into the driveway.

Will chuckled, “Yup.” He wouldn’t even try to explain Hannibal just yet. It would be better if the man could just see for himself.

They got out of the car, and near immediately the dogs came rushing out with Hannibal following them. As the dogs ambushed the new person, Hannibal approached, slowly enough to look elegant, but Will could sense the foreign nervous tension in his gait, and found it charming. 

His nerves, however evident they may or may not have been to Beau Graham, went unnoticed as he was too distracted by the pack to notice Hannibal at first. Protecting aching knees, he was only crouching halfway to greet all of them. His eyes were wide with surprise as he commented, “You’ve got a lot of dogs, Will.”

“Yeah, there’s seven of them.”

He seemed slightly overwhelmed, but looked up to Will with a smile, unsurprised at Will’s collection of dogs. Mostly joking, he asked, “How do you manage to take care of them all?”

“We manage,” Hannibal answered.

Beau looked up to greet the man clad in an expensive-looking suit, and the first thought he had was that he must be hot in all those layers. He stood up to greet him.

All charm, Hannibal extended his hand towards Beau. “Dr. Hannibal Lecter, but please, just call me Hannibal.”

Beau shook his hand and managed to only look a little bewildered. “Beau Graham. You’re a doctor, huh?”

“Formerly medical, but now I run a psychiatry practice.”

Beau huffed and cast a quick glance at Will. “A psychiatrist.”

Will’s cheeks heated a bit, knowing exactly what his father was thinking about, given he hadn’t kept his opinions on psychiatrists a secret when school administrators advised him to seek one out for him. To be fair, his feelings on psychiatrists hadn’t changed. There just happened to be an exception.

Hannibal smiled, easily reading the train of thoughts before extending his invitation, clearly taking pleasure in the home being equally his as it was Will’s, “Please, do come in. I hope your flight worked up an appetite, as dinner will be ready shortly.” 

“Sounds great. Thank you, Hannibal,” Beau said, making sure to use his first name as requested, carefully parsing out the unfamiliar name.

Hannibal gave him a gracious smile and led Beau to the porch, where he noted the flowers in planters hanging off of the railing and the elegant set of table and chairs, clearly meant for early morning breakfasts with just the two of them. Will backtracked to collect his father’s bag before following them in.

“If you’d like, Mr. Graham, either of us could give you a tour, or show you up to the guest room,” Hannibal offered, eyes sparkling with pleasure at the mild awe on Beau’s face as he surveyed the living room.

“Please, call me Beau. If you need to get back to dinner, I’ll have Will show me around.” He met Hannibal’s eye quickly and flashed a smile, before returning his gaze elsewhere, flitting across the room, looking much like an older Will Graham. He carried himself with more confidence than Will had had when Hannibal first met him, but seemed to feel a little out of his element in the impeccable living room.

Smiling, Hannibal replied, “Beau. Very well. Feel free to meet me in the dining room when you’re ready.” Hannibal dipped his head in an unnecessarily courteous gesture before returning to the kitchen where the meal waited.

They watched him leave, and Will lifted Beau’s bag in a motion towards the stairs, leading the way to the upper level of the house.

“That man of yours is really something. Polite. Definitely handsome,” Beau commented as they ascended.

Will blushed, glad his father couldn’t see him. Not that Will has ever given him an opportunity to meet past significant others, he never expected the man to comment on Hannibal’s _looks_. “Yeah, he is,” he replied, unsure what else to say.

Will led his father past his and Hannibal’s bedroom to the guest bedroom at the end of the hallway, pointing out the bathroom across the hall. He left him with his bags to get settled a bit and meet him back in the living room, opting to show him the study later, when he might be less overwhelmed by the odd amalgamation of decorating that is less charming to others as it is to Will and Hannibal.

When Beau returned to the living room, the dogs had settled into their respective spots on the floor and across dog beds. Will offered Beau a seat at one of the chairs by the unlit fireplace and off of his lingering gaze at the dogs, proceeded to introduce him to each of them, before leaving briefly to check on the status of dinner. Will returned to see Beau softly reciting the seven names to himself in an effort to remember them.

With a reserved smile, Will made his presence known and interrupted his father, “Dinner is almost ready to be served, if you’d like to come join me in the dining room.”

“Sure,” Beau responded and hastily moved to stand, failing a bit at first because he moved too fast. He reared back and gripped the arms of the chair to launch himself up better, but Will intercepted his efforts and offered his hand. Beau gave him an embarrassed smile and they gripped each other’s wrists to help him up. He steadied himself and said, “Thanks, kiddo. I’m not as agile as I used to be.”

“Nonsense, of course you are,” Will joked, leading him into the dining room.

Will showed Beau to the head of the table, taking the place of a guest of honor, as he was sure Hannibal would wish. Then, Will left him once more to help Hannibal serve everything, returning once with wine and once with Beau’s plate before taking his seat as Hannibal came with the remaining plates. Will watched Beau admire their dining room. It had developed much from the room it used to be, as mostly untouched by Will as it was. It now housed a table that could seat eight, slightly smaller than Hannibal’s old table, but felt no less grand with only three people there. To an observer who knew both of them, the softer blue of the wall color and the decor was the starker difference, as it was much less showy than Hannibal’s former dining room. Instead, Will and Hannibal decorated only to show off the best of each other, with Will’s lures displayed in framed shadow boxes alternating with a few of Will’s favorites of Hannibal’s sketches. After taking in the room, Will watched Beau’s slightly baffled observation of Hannibal, dancing fluidly from one room to the next, then adjusting small details in the lighting and placement of dishes.

Hannibal described the dish-- a Cajun favorite as recommended by Will --as he finished and took his seat, both of them at either side of Beau.

“Wow,” Beau sighed in awe of the dish, dressed up with the flair of a chef. “This looks delicious. I take it you like to cook?”

“It is one of my most treasured passions, yes,” Hannibal replied, exceedingly pleased with Beau’s appraisal of the presentation.

Will let Hannibal be the only rude one in watching Beau take his first bite and instead took one of his own. He could hardly miss Beau sitting up a little straighter though, and looked to see his eyes widened.

“Goodness, Hannibal. This _is_ delicious. Beyond that. Really quite good.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Hannibal purred. “Though I admit I find myself even more glad to have you as our guest, Beau. I appreciate your humoring us on such an impulsive visit.”

Beau nodded and waited to speak again until after he had swallowed the large second bite he had taken. “I was surprised to hear from you, Will,” he said, turning to his son, “but I’m really happy I get to see the life you’ve made for yourself here.”

Will smiled, blushing slightly at the unexpectedly honest sentiment. “I’m… sorry I haven’t offered sooner. I wasn’t exactly happy until fairly recently.”

“It’s not your fault, Will. I didn’t know it was something you might want. If you’ll have me, I’d like this to be a first step in being in each other’s lives again,” Beau explained with his eyes avoiding Will’s in favor of looking down into his food, voice soft with hope.

 _God_ , Will thought. _Have I completely misunderstood our relationship for past twenty years?_

He placed his hand over his father’s, where it lay momentarily unused, and smiled when Beau looked up at him.

“I’d like that, Dad,” he said, and beamed to match his father’s relieved grin.

Hannibal raised his wine glass and they followed his lead. “To mending connections and to family.”

They toasted, “To family” with warm smiles all around before returning to their meal.

* * *

After dinner, they showed Beau to the study where they continued their conversations. Like he had the other rooms in the house, Beau took in every detail. He noticed this room was much more eclectic, yet cozy. Will and Hannibal seemed most at ease in the study, as it was decorated to please them rather than to entertain guests. There were two armchairs and a sofa surrounding a coffee table that housed a high stack of books and the first of the room's antler decorations. The walls were lined with bookshelves, an impressive collection itself, but especially so when one remembers the others in the living room. The piano that had previously been in the living room found its way up here, as Will found he didn’t like the idea of getting rid of it, despite it being an inheritance of the former owners and his procrastination of getting it tuned.

Beau relaxed back into one of the armchairs, agreeably sated from their warm meal, while Will and Hannibal remained a respectful distance from each other on the sofa.

“This is a very nice house you have here, Will,” Beau summarized his assessment.

Will laughed, remembering tiny, messy houses and apartments belonging to others and temporarily rented out to them. “I bought it initially due to its seclusion-- and because the former owners were selling it very cheap. It didn’t always look quite as nice as it does now, but Hannibal’s taste does have some benefits.”

Hannibal cast a fake glare at Will at the backhanded compliment. “Please, this is not all my doing. When I moved in with Will, we made changes, yes, but most were just because he had never truly broken in the home as his own.”

“I see,” Beau cast another look around, returning his gaze to Hannibal’s warm one. “You’ve definitely made it something to be admired.”

“Thank you,” Will responded for both of them, taking pride in the home they built together.

At dinner, they had mostly grilled Beau on his life, learning about his stable job of nearly ten years and the house on the river outside of Baton Rouge. In return, Beau asked minimal questions, and Will gave minimal answers. Both of the Grahams, however, could rely on Hannibal to elaborate and-- as he would put it --give the full story.

When he felt Will was downplaying his work, Hannibal added, “I, for one, look forward to filling you in on all of Will’s recent accomplishments.”

Will shot him a glance that said “Do you?” and he imagined that discovering (and then continuing to date) the Chesapeake Ripper wouldn’t be among them.

Thankfully, Beau just laughed. “I’ll look forward to it. Now, it is getting fairly late and you’ll find old people like me need to get their beauty sleep earlier than most, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I retire?”

Hannibal and Will stood up to escort him out of the study, Hannibal agreeing, “Of course, Beau. We’re both early risers as well, so this benefits all of us.”

“Speak for yourself,” Will jested, helping his father up once more. “I only get up early because of you,” he said to Hannibal. “But I’ll need to for real if we’re going to go to the stream in the morning. That is assuming you would prefer the morning, right, Dad?”

They had discussed making a day of fishing, like they used to, while Hannibal was at work the next day. As a child, the calm that fishing brought him was something new and necessary, and the only person he had shared it with was his father, who had always seemed to find the same peace. They got along best those quiet mornings, and Will particularly remembered his father gazing at him with bright eyes full of amusement rather than fatigue when Will showed him fossils he found in the creek beds. Upon reflection, he realized that may have been when they felt the most fond of each other.

Beau’s eyes shone as he replied, “Sure, kiddo. I’ll meet you in the morning.” The time was understood. Their fishing days had always followed the expectation that Will set his own alarm and meet his father, ready to go, by his truck to help load it.

They parted in the hall when Beau shut the guest bedroom door behind him and Will exhaled a sigh of relief. Hannibal came to wrap himself around Will and pushed him into their bedroom. Will flopped on the bed before doing anything else and Hannibal followed him.

“I can’t believe how well that went,” Will exhaled, finding Hannibal’s shoulders and clutching them.

“I can. It’s clear your father wants to be in your life.” Hannibal pulled Will all the way to him and buried fingers in his curls, allowing the other hand to make circles on Will’s back.

Will sighed. “All signs point to that. I feel like an idiot.”

“Childhood affected rational thought. Now you have the chance to see the truth of the matter.”

“It’s not that I ever thought he _hated_ me or anything. I simply thought him… indifferent at best.”

Hannibal continued stroking his back and let Will come to a different conclusion on his own, coaxing the emotional tension slowly out. Will relaxed into his touch and pulled at Hannibal to bring their chests tightly together.

“Thank you, for this, Hannibal,” Will whispered. “It was a good idea.”

Hannibal hummed his pleasure and it echoed in Will’s taut chest. “You’re very welcome, Will. Though, I confess my reasons are not entirely selfless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, credit to purefoysgirl and their fic Overcoming for the idea of Hannibal having Will’s lures framed and displayed! I love this idea, and I just finished reading their amazing, gigantic fic!
> 
> And of course thank you for those of you who were waiting so patiently for this chapter! And I hope you’ll be happy to know that (in my usual fashion) this is going to be longer than I expected! Oops turns out I have to work out Will’s daddy issues over a couple chapters instead of just one lol
> 
> Thanks for reading, and if you leave a comment I love you and want to thank you for your support!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks for reading! At the time of posting this, Texas (where I live) is in full-on chaos mode because of the coldest temps since 1989 and lots of snow! It’s kind of magical, but also inconvenient because of the power outages. I hope you guys are all warm and safe!

By the break of dawn the next morning, Beau and Will had their arms full of fishing gear and were already traipsing through the field towards the woods where Will’s stream waited for them. The dogs followed them, happy to explore this part of their private realm with a new and exciting guest.

The breeze between the trees was refreshing, with the water knee deep and warm enough to stifle any chill. They enjoyed comfortable silence and a plentiful bounty, with the fish biting easily, and threw back all but enough to prepare for dinner and a few to freeze for later. After the early morning hours, the increasing heat became less and less welcome, and they made their way back to the house.

When Will let his mind wander, he thought back to the previous night, and he surmised that his father was doing the same. His father had spoken so _plainly_ in a way he hadn’t expected. If he didn’t know any better he’d think his father, too, had been to therapy based on his improved communication skills. If he had, Will just hoped his therapy had been a little more… conventional.

After assembling sandwiches that served as both breakfast and lunch, Will and Beau headed to while away the hours of the afternoon in the study. Hannibal was long gone by the time they got back, and would be there in the evening in time for them to surprise him with dinner.

“You still play?” Beau asked Will, gesturing towards the piano from his relaxed position on the armchair.

“No, not really.”

“Does Hannibal?”

Will sighed. “I’m sure he can, as he can play harpsichord, but this piano is still out of tune. Has been since it came with the house. I haven’t gotten around to calling someone to tune it.”

“It’s expensive.”

Will slumped further down onto the couch. “Yeah. Hannibal would have it done if he cared to. Or thought I wanted it.”

“Do you want to?” Beau asked, and Will looked up. “I could help you. I’ve done it before, actually, for a friend. With help.”

Will lit up, sitting forward and ignoring the urge to ask about his father having a friend. “You’ve done it before? I thought it was complicated, considering it’s a profitable profession on its own.”

“It is complicated, but you know there’s not much I’m not willing to learn to do myself.”

Will felt a smile creep up on his face, recalling sewn-on patches to his ripped clothing and his dad lying on the floor fussing with cables behind a TV. “I didn’t even think to do it myself,” he chuckled. “Hannibal must be rubbing off on me. I’m getting pampered.”

“He seems to like pampering you.”

Will flushed and ducked his head, quickly deciding to return to the subject of the piano. “You’d help me with it?”

“Of course,” Beau reassured him with a grin.

“I’d love that. Thanks, Dad.”

“My pleasure. A project would do us both some good. We’d need to visit a hardware store, if there’s one nearby?”

Will latched onto the idea filling their idle hours for the rest of his father’s visit. He moved to stand. “Yeah, there is.”

“Great,” his father said as he moved to stand as well, accepting Will’s help which was becoming routine.

“Do me a favor, though,” Will said, grinning. “Don’t tell Hannibal.”

* * *

The Grahams took the opportunity of heading into town to buy a few groceries to help with dinner after acquiring tools to tune the piano, and they combined forces to cook a meal they were both proud of. Hannibal enjoyed it as much as they did and sung their praises before they all headed to the study again for the evening.

When Beau suggested they play cards and found amusement in the curl of distaste for the activity on Hannibal’s lip, Will insisted that that’s what they were going to do. Hannibal was unfamiliar with the rules of any of the games they listed, so Will huddled closer to his partner, serving as fond comfort for the indignant shame Hannibal felt at having to be explained through the rules of a game inexplicably called Egyptian Rat Screw, which to his perplexity included _slapping_. And neither Graham was shy about slapping harshly.

Hannibal got the hang of it, quickly ascertaining the patterns and overcoming his reluctance to slap the deck, and they played through a few games until Hannibal was nearly as formidable a player as either Graham.

After a while, Will tired of the game and opted to sink further into the couch and invite Winston to lay on his lap. He shut his eyes and pet Winston between the ears as he listened to Hannibal move to the other chair to give him some room and be closer to Beau so that they may talk without disturbing Will. The slow repetitive motion of petting Winston lulled Will further into rest. Before it fully took him, he thought he heard the scratching of a pencil on paper, and the image of Hannibal sketching, his father watching or also resting, coaxed the hint of a smile on his lax features.

* * *

Hannibal spoke softly as he moved away from the couch, “Would you mind if I sketched for a time?”

Beau smiled. “Not at all.”

As Hannibal moved to pull his drawing desk from one corner of the room to be closer to him, Beau continued. “Before I met his mother,” he said, eyes flickering over Will’s resting form, “I wanted to go to school to be an architect. I would draw all of my favorite buildings. I lived in a small town, so there wasn’t much inspiration, but I loved seeing cities in movies, and would go to the library to find more pictures of the buildings I saw.”

Hannibal hummed, pleased to have found a common ground other than their affection for Will. He didn’t have to ask why Beau gave up on being an architect. “Have you traveled, more than you were able to when you were younger?”

“Only in my dreams.”

Hannibal paused before he lifted the desktop to reveal some of his finished works and works in progress, taking a moment to marvel at how like Will his answer was, only difference being the gruff edges around his voice. He pulled out a few drawings and fanned them, passing them over to Beau.

“I, too, have a fondness for architecture, though I favor the human form more than any other subject.” He noticed Beau pause on a sketch of the Duomo in Florence. “I have sketched Florence more than any other city. That one is from when we were there a couple of weeks ago.”

“It’s beautiful,” Beau whispered, a mask covered his face, failing to hide the signs of wistfulness from someone as perceptive as Hannibal.

Careful to avoid the subject of Will’s mother, sensing the pain there, Hannibal asked, “Have you drawn much recently? I would love to see your work.”

Beau smiled, but it resembled a grimace. “It’s been years.”

Beau passed Hannibal’s drawings back, and Hannibal put them safely below the desktop, before retrieving his pencils and scalpel, and new paper. He didn’t hesitate to grab extra materials.

“Please, I insist you join me,” he said. He offered Beau the desk, and before the man could refuse, moved to retrieve for himself the folding tray he and Will had sometimes used for coffee or hot chocolate when bundled up on the couch in the winter.

Beau hesitated before rising and switching to the seat at the drawing desk, moving rough fingertips over the smooth paper as if challenging it to catch. He twirled the pencil once, and then he made his first mark on the pristine surface. Hannibal could tell Beau would have refused but was secretly glad of the opportunity, and they both settled in to enjoy the activity in silence.

* * *

A couple of days later, the piano was successfully tuned, unbeknownst to Hannibal, and the couple had shared their last dinner with Beau the previous evening. This time, Will let Hannibal reschedule his appointments so they could both see Beau off to the airport.

After they walked him to security, Hannibal and Beau shook hands, and Beau surprised him by leaning in to clap his back affectionately. After meeting and getting to know Beau, Hannibal didn’t know how he hadn’t expected to like someone related to Will in more than a casual, indifferent way necessary to please Will. Will, of course, was still extraordinary and beyond comparison, but his father was pleasant company all on his own.

“I hope to see you again soon,” Hannibal informed him.

Beau caught the conspiratorial glimmer in his eye and bit back a smirk. “I’m sure you will.”

Beau turned to Will, who had waited patiently and admired the connection that they had clearly formed, aided by both his presence and by moments of his absence. Their parting was decidedly different from all of the other times Will had said goodbye to his father. He knew that there was a promise of more, and he relished the satisfaction of knowing they were both on the same page. He didn’t need to hold back inconvenient thoughts or feelings anymore. So, they departed with a hug, and the warm press of Beau’s hand on Will’s shoulder blade seemed to linger even as Beau himself walked away.

* * *

Back at home, both men were still basking in remembrance of how nice it had been to have a visitor and equally treasuring their newfound time alone. Following the conclusion of their lunch, Hannibal announced, “I have something for you, Will.”

Will looked up, eyes wide and innocent. “Don’t you need to get to work?” he asked, casting a quick look at his watch.

“I do not. I confess I hoped to spend the day with you, if you’re amenable. I’ve already rearranged my afternoon appointments. Perhaps I could take you to dinner later?” Hannibal had that intense, fond look in his eyes, and Will’s heart leapt.

“You could hardly expect me to deny you at this point, Hannibal,” Will teased.

“I wouldn’t dare attempt to predict you, darling,” Hannibal said, and they both grinned. Hannibal rose from his chair. “Wait here a moment, please.”

When Hannibal returned, holding something out of sight behind his back, Will felt his heart start to race. He remembered Hannibal told him that the reason his heart didn’t race anymore when he killed was because killing literally changed him. It seemed that no matter how much Hannibal, or killing, changed him, he still had this effect on Will.

Hannibal came to Will at the table before Will could worry about if he should stand up and go to him or not. He swallowed the lump of anticipation in his throat, and Hannibal moved whatever it was from behind his back to the front before setting it on the table before Will. Will quickly noticed it was bigger than what he was expecting and felt himself relax, telling himself he wasn’t disappointed.

He saw it was a frame and looked closer to see what was inside it. It was a sketch, a meticulous rendition of himself and his father grinning over cards at the coffee table in the study. The detail of the room and the expression on his father’s face was so incredibly lifelike, considering Hannibal had done it from memory and not in the moment. Hannibal’s depictions of him had always seemed idolized to Will, but with the truth of his father in the image, he had to confront his own likeness as the truth. The spread of his chest and the openness of his expression, the happy wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and the laugh frozen in time were startling compared to what Will saw when he looked in the mirror.

He found himself smiling widely. It was just as good as having a picture of the two of them-- no, it was definitely better. Will tore his eyes away to meet Hannibal’s.

“It’s perfect. Come here.”

Hannibal’s eyes sparkled as he sighed and leaned forward to meet Will in a kiss. Will cupped the man’s cheeks and then pulled away to whisper, “Thank you,” before kissing him once more.

Hannibal pulled back a bit after a few more indulgent moments. “Actually, I have one more, Will,” he whispered.

Will leaned away enough to spy that one of Hannibal’s hands was still suspiciously behind his back. He looked back at Hannibal and grinned. “You really are spoiling me.”

“I could never deny you, either, Will,” Hannibal said. “Even if you have not explicitly asked for something, doesn’t mean I don’t know you need it.”

“Go on, then. Show me what I didn’t know I desperately needed.”

Hannibal huffed and took the object from behind him and passed another frame to Will. “I didn’t do this one.”

Will gave him a puzzled look before looking at the framed picture. At first glance, he would have assumed it was one of Hannibal’s, as the paper and materials seemed identical. It was only when he looked closely that he noticed the lines were all different. The style was completely unlike Hannibal’s. It was a drawing of the outside of their house. It was… technical, with sharp, hard lines, in a way Hannibal’s drawings seldom were, but at the same time, there was light, clear despite the only color on the page being the gray of a pencil. There was life emanating from the windows, the surfaces welcoming with a promise of warmth on the inside.

Where Hannibal usually placed his clean signature was the nearly illegible scribble, claiming the work as one by “Beau Graham.”

Shock and awe were clear on Will’s face when he finally looked back up at Hannibal. “My dad made this?”

“He did. Isn’t it beautiful?”

It was. Will was at a loss for words, never having imagined his father possessed such artistic skill, and the sting of hurt at the thought that he had never shared that with Will before was done in by an overwhelming sense of pride. Pride that his father was willing to share it now and chose to depict his feelings for the home that Will has made for himself. For in the drawing, the warmth, the light, and the light, they were all signs of the happiness his father saw-- and felt --in the house. There was no bitterness remaining for any past unhappiness. Will could just tell Beau was happy for Will and was overjoyed at the chance to share in any of it with them.

“Hannibal,” Will sighed. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward again to clutch Hannibal to his chest wrapping one hand around the nape of his neck. As much as he loved the home they had built together, Will knew he would be equally happy as long as he had the completely remarkable man in his arms. Wherever they may find themselves, Hannibal would always be his home. That he could share it with his father now, too, was just an added bonus, and he had Hannibal to thank for that.

Tears brimmed at Will’s eyes as he pushed one of Hannibal’s knees to the side to make more room for himself in the embrace. “God, I fucking love you,” Will choked.

Will’s chest practically vibrated with the warm purr Hannibal released in response. “And I, you.”

* * *

After spending an afternoon full of celebrating being alone in the house once more, Will and Hannibal were getting ready to go out for dinner. Hannibal explained that he had actually made a reservation to surprise him with, never actually intending to go to work that day at all, as Will had thought. Upon discovering this, Will felt guilty for not doing anything for Hannibal in return for the idea to invite his father to visit, and he was tempted to tell Hannibal about the piano earlier than he planned. But, he resisted the urge, because he wanted to tell Hannibal about the piano when he was ready to play for him at the same time. That would be the better gift, and Hannibal was more than patient enough to appreciate it.

“About this restaurant. How nice are we talking, here?” Will called from the mirror in front of the closet.

Hannibal came into the bedroom from the connected bathroom, observing Will in his charcoal slacks and turquoise button-down. He was thumbing through the suit jackets on hangers, hesitant to wear an extra layer in the summer heat. Hannibal approached him from behind and wrapped his arms around Will’s waist.

“You look more than nice enough, darling,” he murmured into Will’s ear.

Will chuckled. “Nice enough to eat?”

Hannibal nipped his ear and whispered, “Always.”

Will shuddered and turned around in Hannibal’s grip. “Are you sure you don’t want to dress me yourself?”

“You already look stunning. An artist knows at what point to stop manipulating the canvas. Past that point, and the heart begins to seem lost, fuzzy around the edges.”

Will huffed. “You are the picture of humility, Dr. Lecter,” he joked. “I’m glad you’re proud of your work.”

“I don’t claim to take credit for your beauty, dear Will. You are, more accurately, the masterwork that was there all along. You just needed a little dusting.”

“And now we’re not talking about my appearance anymore,” Will laughed. “You know, sometimes you can just say I look good and you like that I like to kill people.”

“I’d never use such simple language. It ruins the enjoyment of your reactions.”

“You’re right. Fun is only found in metaphors,” Will deadpanned.

Hannibal gave him a disapproving frown. “Right,” he said, smoothing a hand over the chest of Will’s shirt. “If you’re looking for honesty, I am pleased with your attire. Don’t worry yourself with a jacket.”

Will smiled. “Thank you. That’s all I wanted to know.”

Hannibal nuzzled against Will’s cheek and hummed, “Give me a bit more time, and then we can be on our way.”

Hannibal returned to primp in the bathroom and Will finished dressing with his belt, socks, and shoes before heading downstairs, already having shaved and tamed his hair. “A bit more time” turned out to mean half an hour, and Will tried not to feel annoyed when he looked at his watch. He didn’t know what time the reservation was for, but he knew Hannibal would never risk them being late, so there was no reason to fear losing their table.

Eventually, Hannibal’s footsteps coming down the stairs alerted Will, who sat upright from his position in an armchair in the living room, perked up just like the dogs were attuned to both of them. As soon as Hannibal came into sight, Will had to keep himself from dropping his jaw. Hannibal was dressed not in a suit, like Will expected, but in his silky white shirt and nicest black pants. His hair was gelled back smoothly, just asking for Will’s fingers to mess it up, and Will was sure he would later.

Most peculiarly, though, was the tight furrow of Hannibal’s brow and the thin line his lips were brought to. If Will didn’t know any better, he’d think Hannibal was avoiding his gaze, but they finally made eye contact when Hannibal reached the bottom landing. As soon as they did, Hannibal’s eyes softened and his lips quirked up into a smile.

“Hey, handsome,” Will greeted, “You ready to go?”

“Yes,” Hannibal answered a little too sharply.

They loaded themselves into Hannibal’s car and took off, seemingly towards D.C. The summer sun was only just starting to set, despite the hour, by the time they reached the neighborhood in D.C. that Will had only visited with Hannibal. Will was unsurprised when they pulled up directly to the front of a restaurant that Will suspected was one of the nicest in town. They both got out of the car, and Hannibal gave his key to the valet before leading Will inside the wide glass doors by the small of his back.

Upon entering, the hostess was waiting to attend to them. She seemed to recognize Hannibal and addressed them warmly, “Good evening, Monsieurs. You may be seated at any table of your choosing.”

“Merci,” said Hannibal, with a dip of his head as they both moved to enter the dining area.

As soon as Will entered the space, he realized the hostess really hadn’t been joking about them sitting at _any_ table, as there didn’t seem to be another customer in the entire restaurant. Instead, they were met with the music of a piano quintet playing softly in a corner of the dimly-lit dining space. The tables were comfortably spaced, but that didn’t matter in the least as there was no one else to be found.

Hannibal seemed unsurprised, but watched Will carefully. “Where would you like to sit, my love?”

Will stopped gawking at the privacy the room offered them and remembered the hostess was likely waiting on them to sit. “I… I don’t know. Will you pick?”

Hannibal acquiesced and guided Will to a table near the middle of the room, closest to the windows, which gave a stunning view of the Washington Monument and the city starting to light up under the setting sun. Will let Hannibal pull out his chair for him and they made themselves comfortable as a waiter came by with water and took Hannibal’s wine order so quickly Will missed what he had said.

“Did you… reserve the entire restaurant?” Will leaned over and whispered, as if needlessly afraid of someone overhearing them.

Hannibal dabbed a bead of sweat from his forehead with his handkerchief. “I did.” He offered no more explanation.

The furrow of Hannibal’s brow was back, and despite the absurdity of the situation in Will’s eyes, the most striking part was the sweat breaking out on Hannibal’s face. It was not hot in the room. In fact, it was perfectly comfortable, and Will himself was not sweating, and he always ran hotter than Hannibal did. Hannibal was _nervous_.

A sudden understanding washed over Will.


	5. Chapter 5

Hannibal had to forcefully regain control over his irritation at his body’s absurd whims. _Sweat_ was not refined. Of course, Will had seen Hannibal sweat before, but that was usually appropriate under the circumstances given the other bodily fluids present in the mix, whether crimson or otherwise. Sweating, now, was entirely _wrong_ , yet Hannibal couldn’t seem to stop it. Taking the hot weather into account, he hadn’t even worn a suit. The silk was even breathable and thankfully did not absorb his sweat. He had prepared for the situation as best as he could.

Or had he? Maybe he should have put more thought into the forecast and waited for a cooler night. Yes. In his haste, he had made the reservation for the first night Beau would be gone. It sounded foolish thinking upon that now, but they were here, and there was no use in looking back. Perhaps he could find the hostess again and ask her to adjust the temperature? Though it didn’t feel exactly unpleasantly warm now that they were inside. He quickly checked for signs of perspiration on Will’s skin or on the cotton-blend fabric of his shirt. There were none. Will looked… comfortable. Considering Will was the one that usually ran hot, Hannibal reasoned that it was not physical stress causing his condition. This made sense, logically, but Hannibal couldn’t help despising the human flaw that created an outward show of his emotions.

He resisted the urge to seek privacy in the bathroom to wipe away the unwelcome sweat. Leaving Will before they had even received their drinks would be intolerably rude. This evening would be nothing short of perfect if everything could just go Hannibal’s way.

After what seemed like just slightly, yet agonizingly, too long, the waiter came back with their wine. He poured out a sampling for Hannibal to try, and in a show of courtesy towards Will, Hannibal passed it to him to approve the wine instead, trusting his taste.

Will seemed surprised, as Hannibal had always been the one to select their wine. At each restaurant they had been to, the sampling was never offered to Will. Whether that was just because Hannibal was the one who ordered it, or if it was because Hannibal just looked older or more accustomed to the etiquette, Will wasn’t sure. But, Hannibal could tell Will was amused more than anything that Hannibal was giving him the opportunity this time. Will sipped from the glass, not exactly sure what flavors he was looking for, but it suited him well enough that he set his glass back down, nodding at the waiter, who then filled their glasses.

Hannibal thanked the departing waiter and took a sip from his glass that was aimed at leisurely. He vaguely approved the wine before shifting in his seat to stand. “Excuse me,” he said to Will.

In front of the bathroom mirror, Hannibal was able to assess his disarray. He was pleased to discover that the soap this restaurant used was subtle in scent. Right then, he was overwhelmed by his odor and sought to erase it however possible. He thought fondly of Will’s scent. Through Hannibal’s efforts it had become more sophisticated. As Hannibal wrangled the dog scent in their house and kept it as separate as possible from Will’s, he was able to identify the intruding factors and eliminate them until nearly all of the scents in Hannibal’s immediate experiences were either 1) Will’s, 2) his, or 3) a complement to their scents. Will was largely oblivious to the minute alterations, but to have regular, reliable access to the pure, decadent scent of _Will_ made a world of a difference to Hannibal.

The scent of Hannibal’s sweat was not supposed to be a part of this particular cocktail. He did his best to clean himself up and return to a presentable state. He knew, deep down, that just like Hannibal enjoyed Will in all of his varying states of beauty, Will would never truly find Hannibal unattractive, even if he was sweaty or otherwise in disarray. Yet, he couldn’t help the finicky need to look his best for Will whenever possible.

Feeling satisfied with the cooling effects of the water on his skin and the work the soap did to alleviate the smell of his sweat, Hannibal left the bathroom. The quintet still played softly, and even though Will was facing the other way, he could tell Will had either heard or sensed him coming. As Hannibal passed him to reach his seat, he caught a quirk of Will’s lips before he schooled his expression.

“I almost thought you’d bailed on me,” Will joked.

Hannibal felt his skin heat again, and he hoped he was not flushed. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

Will smirked. “That’s alright. I don’t think you could leave me if you tried.”

They both knew there was no reason to doubt the truth of the sentiment. Hannibal thinned his lips in a fabrication of chagrin. “I won’t give you the satisfaction of confirming or denying that.”

Will just chuckled, delaying a response for the sight of the waiter approaching them again.

“Are you ready for the first course?” the waiter asked.

Will looked to Hannibal with something like alarm. Hannibal replied, “Yes, please.”

“Right away, sir,” the waiter said before dashing away.

Before Will could ask, Hannibal explained, “I confirmed our menu choices prior to our arrival. They need only to prepare and bring us our courses with proper timing.”

Hannibal saw Will relax, glad not to have to fuss with the choices himself. He had quickly gotten frustrated with indecipherable menus early on. In lieu of asking Hannibal the meaning of every other word, Will opted to let Hannibal choose his meals, since that’s what they do at home anyways. He was not picky, and Hannibal had quickly learned Will’s preferences.

After the waiter left, all of Hannibal’s ideas for conversation had gone somewhere out the window and he was only left with those words which he had crafted meticulously; memorized, though not on purpose. They streamed through his mind like a thick fog and he tensed up, uncomfortable with the feeling. He thought he must be floundering, helplessly, hopelessly, embarrassingly searching for a topic conversation in what felt like the most agonizing moment of his life.

In the seconds it took Hannibal to open and shut his mouth when he realized he had no idea what to say to the perfect, immaculate, incomparable being in front of him— because he was not yet ready to say the words that wouldn’t leave him —Will seemed to realize on some level Hannibal’s suffering and took pity on him.

Sweet, sweet mercy were his words. “So what’d you think of my dad? And I’m asking you, Hannibal, not Dr. Lecter. Save your psychoanalysis for at least the second course.”

Hannibal smiled, relieved at the peace he felt, falling into conversation with his Will. Will, who always knew just what to say to make him laugh, to drive him mad. He had found, long ago, that he could tolerate Will’s ribbing, or even his flat-out impudence, and more often than not found himself charmed by it. He would allow Will anything, would seek out reactions if only to see that smile, hear that laugh one more time. That beautiful moment that he could never seem to quite capture the vibrance of in his art. People often look at beautiful scenery and comment on how “like a painting” it is. Hannibal had always appreciated what art could do, but in Will, found life exceedingly preferable. Nothing else he had witnessed, or would ever witness, he expected, could ever come close.

* * *

Courses came and went, bites savored between moments of conversation, until they were at their last moments of the dessert course. Hannibal had, several minutes ago, realized that his tastes at that moment lied not with the succulent dish on the table but with Will, rapturous with his delight at the sweet dish, tempered with the punch of tart contrast.

Will seemed satisfied with being watched. Hannibal’s fork lay forgotten on the table, and Will basked under Hannibal’s heated gaze, feinting ignorance of it as he brought his own fork delicately up to his mouth. He tauntingly wrapped his lips around chocolate mousse, finally making eye contact with Hannibal when he traced the edge of his bottom lip with his tongue in a search for crumbs of the tart crust.

It suddenly became clear that Hannibal needed to say those words lingering at the back of his lust-addled mind, if not for the entire reason he had made this date with Will, but so that they could finish their business here at the restaurant and make their way home. Or anywhere private, now that Hannibal started to lament how far they were from home. The thirty minute drive, though short and pleasant on their way to the city, would be agony on their return. He cursed himself for not having the foresight to book them a hotel room and resolved to think through the close by options as soon as his mind had cleared a bit.

“Will,” Hannibal said, sounding more breathless than he meant to, as Will wiped the corners of his mouth with his napkin before putting it on his plate as a signal of his finishing. “Would you like to go up to the balcony?”

Will froze. He swallowed and looked back up at Hannibal with trepidation. The sight made Hannibal’s insides roll with fear. What if he had miscalculated?

“There’s a balcony?” Will asked.

Hannibal unconsciously mimicked Will in a swallow around the lump in his own throat. “There is.”

Will nodded slowly and then started to smile. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Hannibal stood up quickly so that he could pull Will’s chair out again, and in doing so he couldn’t resist leaning in to get a whiff as Will’s curls rose closer and closer to him. He smelled as perfect as ever, the woody scent of his shampoo only amplifying the sweet, musky scent of pure Will. The faint smells of their dinner, and even more divine, their dessert, also lingered promisingly, and Hannibal let his eyes shut to fully absorb the combination.

Interrupted by Will’s chuckle, Hannibal’s eyes snapped back open and this time he did flush, despite his refusal to feel embarrassment at savoring what was _his_. His flush, his sweat, they were all signs of his nerves, the dueling forces inside him, one begging Will to accept him, to have him forever, to claim him and love him, hoping to please Will however possible, and the other one, rabid and deranged at the enticing scent, the one that demands his gaze linger on the exposed sliver of skin of Will’s nape, dashing itself against the walls of Hannibal’s mind, trying to fuck, consume, possess. Both parts of him were in agreement about what had to happen next, but standing here, slowly scenting his darling Will, making no moves to go anywhere but inches away from him, Hannibal was almost… stalling.

Will turned his head around to look at Hannibal, who still hadn’t moved from directly behind Will’s chair. His face had colored, like it always did when he caught Hannibal smelling him, usually from embarrassed pleasure, but from so close, Hannibal could see the slight sheen of sweat on Will’s own face.

“Um… lead the way?” Will laughed awkwardly. The sound of it woke Hannibal from his trance because oh, no. He had made _Will_ nervous now, too. That laugh, the one he defaulted to in uncomfortable social situations had no place in his interactions with Hannibal. Hannibal mustered his resolve. He could still remedy this.

In a motion so quick it was undetectable, Hannibal wiped his sweaty palm on his pants— like a _teenager_ , he lamented —and held it out in offering to Will, putting the other to the small of Will’s back. Will accepted the offer with a small smile which Hannibal returned, and Hannibal led him to a corridor that had a staircase. They ascended, made their way through a different dining room, and then Hannibal opened the floor-to-ceiling glass door to the balcony, letting Will meet the breezy evening air first.

The door slowly shut behind them as they took in the sights of the city, now illuminated for the night that fell. Will found himself leaning against the railing, unperturbed by any sounds or eyes on him as they were the only people in sight. Something weighed heavy in Hannibal’s pocket, and his pulse accelerated. It seemed his body wasn’t done betraying him. But, he dabbed his forehead quickly and closed his eyes for a moment, collecting his thoughts before stepping forward to join Will at the edge of the balcony.

He slid his arm around Will’s waist and felt himself relax a fraction at the comfort of Will, solid and real, against him. Will seemed to feel a similar relief and sighed.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Will asked, taking his gaze away from the city to look at Hannibal.

Hannibal’s eyes widened minutely. He did know, of course, but didn’t expect Will to say so out of the blue. He was too focused on what he was preparing to say to consider the possibility of Will speaking, but despite everything he melted with the pleasure it brought. “I do, Will. Words are too limiting to do justice to my love for you.”

“They are. But, it doesn’t hurt to try,” Will said, with a hint of a mischievous smirk.

The words he had carefully constructed before seemed to soar out the window at Hannibal’s dawning comprehension. Will _knew_. Of course. How could he ever doubt Will’s perception? Hannibal relaxed and let out a laugh, loose and free.

“Yes, I suppose I will have to try, won’t I?”

Will grinned and tilted his chin up at Hannibal. He maintained eye contact and waited, showing he was listening attentively. Instead of the rehearsed version, Hannibal opened his mouth to speak just of the love, devotion, and passion he had for Will.

“Will, my love. Before I met you I was alone. I didn’t even realize what I was missing until we found each other. You are so much more than what others see in you. So much more than what you present to the world. You are more than your actions, your thoughts, or your motivations. You are more valuable to me than life itself. There is not a thing I wouldn’t give just to witness you, and to think that you choose to spend your time with me is pure bliss.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the box that had burned against his thigh for so long, that Hannibal heard screaming for Will from hidden locations for the last several weeks. Will’s eyes tracked the motion, and though he seemed to know what was going on, his eyes widened significantly in surprise nevertheless. Hannibal slipped his arm from Will’s back and knelt down on one knee.

“You are more than well-acquainted with all of me, Will. You know me and understand me more than I had ever hoped. You know the half of me that wants to ask you to have me. To let me be yours. It would be the greatest honor for our bond to go just the one way. But, the other part of me, the one you know just as well, wars against that, telling me to insist that you be mine. To cement it, lock it in, and mark my claim on you on paper. And I know that it is just paper, just silver adorning our bodies and the law that would change, but I’ve fallen victim to feeling like it represents more than that. You would be doing me the greatest favor if you wanted it, too, and let us be each other’s. Forever. The rest of our lives is not long enough, but we will always have our legacy. _Please,_ will you marry me, Will?”

The milliseconds of silence were the source of momentary torment for Hannibal, until Will quickly gasped out, “Yes,” too afraid of the consequences if he waited another second, his own emotions bursting at the seams. If you asked Will, he would say he answered immediately, but Hannibal would argue that entire, horrifying seconds had passed before he received the glorious response.

At the simple, yearned-for affirmative, elation immediately colored Hannibal’s eyes a happy, sparkling amber, and he broke into a huge crooked smile and stood to kiss Will, forgetting the part where he was supposed to put the ring on him. Instead he wrapped both arms around Will and gripped him so hard that the kiss shouldn’t have been anything but bruising. But, despite all odds, Will was tender, lips fervent against his, a balance of calm, sated pleasure in the passionate grip. Still Will grabbed back at him, a hand massaging through Hannibal’s hair and clutching at his waist. Hannibal desperately licked into Will’s mouth once before another wave of euphoria crashed over him and he felt an urgent need to kiss every inch of Will’s face. Across his cheeks, over the cheekbone to his eyelids, tasting the treasured salt of tears there, from one side of his forehead to the other, not minding the curls getting in his way.

“Hannibal,” Will moaned, and Hannibal leaned back to look him in the eyes.

Will continued, “Please, the ring…”

Hannibal was stunned. He had completely forgotten it, despite still holding on to the ring box while holding Will. He gripped the band with careful fingers, damned if he was going to drop it, and took Will’s hand in a caress from the inside of the wrist to the tip of his ring finger. Hannibal held his breath before slipping it on the finger, and then marveling at the perfect fit and just how absolutely stunning Will’s hand now looked. He didn’t think he would ever get over it.

Will took his hand back to give it a closer look and his grin never faltered. “It’s beautiful, Hannibal. Do you have one, or do I get to pick it?”

“You may pick one for me, if you’d like. Or, you can just wait and we can pick out matching bands for after the wedding,” Hannibal purred.

Will gulped. “The _wedding_...”

Hannibal smiled and placed calming hands on Will’s biceps. “Don’t worry yourself with that yet. I’ll handle everything, or whatever you have no interest in.”

“I can’t help it. Oh, God, is all of Baltimore going to be there?”

Hannibal rubbed his thumbs on Will’s arms through the shirt. “That doesn’t really sound like a celebration you’d enjoy, does it? No, our wedding will be exactly what you desire, but I already have some ideas in mind.”

Will was nodding, feeling appeased at the thought that their wedding wouldn’t be an event full of socialites. “Okay,” he paused, and then started grinning again. “ _Hannibal_ , you proposed!”

The bright blue eyes staring back at Hannibal seemed nothing short of euphoric, and Hannibal certainly understood the sentiment. “I did,” he laughed. “I admit I had more to say, but looking at you… the words were beyond me. You asked me to tell you how much I loved you. I fear I didn’t do so well on that score, but Will, you have made me a happy man forever with your acceptance.”

“Stop, it was beautiful,” Will insisted, pawing at Hannibal’s chest and casting occasional glances at the silver shimmer of the ring in the moonlight. “It was perfect for us. What you didn’t say with words, I felt nonetheless.”

Hannibal beamed at him, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “You beautiful, perceptive man.”

Will pushed him playfully. “ _Your_ man. Your fiancé.”

“Mmm…” Hannibal sighed. “I think that I need to take us somewhere that I can see if that ring looks just as marvelous on you without clothes on.”

The playful glint in Will’s eyes was intoxicating already, and Hannibal reminded himself that in a few seconds they’d have to pry themselves off each other and wait for privacy to enact all the wishes he had for this moment.

“I agree. Not the house?”

“No. A hotel. I have a place in mind,” Hannibal said, and started to step back so that they could wind their way back through the restaurant. Will, holding on to the promise of Hannibal, close, naked, _soon_ , reluctantly released his hands and let them dangle by his side, almost as if he was testing the weight of one against the other. Hannibal sighed again at the sight of him, smiling widely and eyes bright with unbridled joy, joy that _he_ caused, that their union caused. Will had chosen to trust him, and only him, to have the opportunity to keep trying to put that smile on his face. And try, he certainly would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to cut it off before le action ;) but it was getting long and I didn’t have time to include the smut in this chapter!
> 
> Whew! I was dreading writing this chapter because I hadn’t figured out how to make it work, but then it finally clicked that I had to switch to Hannibal’s POV and then all of a sudden it made sense to me. One would think that’s how I’ve been planning this fic… but alas I did not plan that from the beginning lol. It was hard but also really fun writing a chapter completely from his perspective. I hope you guys liked it and please let me know what you thought!! There is obviously more to come :)


	6. Chapter 6

At the hostess stand, Will waved Hannibal off. “I’ll get it. Get the car from the valet.”

Hannibal was in such an agreeable mood his brain completely skipped over the steps that normally would have told him to be a gentleman and offer to get the check. He complied and went outside.

The chivalry of paying for the meal was hardly on Will’s mind, especially since they shared a bank account already. Filled to the brim with elation at how perfectly the evening had gone, Will just wanted to make his new fiancé as happy as humanly possible. He made an additional request of the hostess and paid their bill, pretending not to ban an eye at the ridiculous sum. He had no doubt the restaurant made more money than they would have if they had no tables left.

Will thanked the hostess, being sure to look her in the eyes and smile, and the effort wasn’t half what it normally was. With his generously padded bag in hand, he left the restaurant to find Hannibal with the car just in front of the doors. Hannibal’s expression remained unchanged, just as soft as it had been when they were embracing several minutes earlier. Will got in the passenger seat, and Hannibal shut his door before going around to the driver’s side.

As Hannibal slid into his seat, Will motioned to the bag with a grin. “I got us something. Guess.”

“Champagne?” Hannibal’s look of amusement was very similar to his usual one, but his lips stayed parted as he swept his eyes over Will’s face and hair, lingering on the curls behind his ear.

Will could tell Hannibal was resisting the urge to kiss Will, right in the middle of a conversation, which Hannibal thought too rude to indulge. Will, however, had no qualms and allowed both of them the temptation by leaning in, putting one hand on Hannibal’s bicep with a soft squeeze.

As soon as their lips met, Hannibal let out a sigh of relief and reached up to wind his fingers in the curls he had been eyeing, delighting in Will’s flawless reading of him. Will pushed further into Hannibal’s lips and caressed the opening the sigh provided. Hannibal’s other hand seemed desperate to join, despite the slightly awkward position, and it reached out, stopping only an inch away from clutching Will’s shirt at the waist.

“The valet, Will,” Hannibal said regretfully, after pulling away enough to see Will’s eyes.

Will smiled. “He’s done his job for the night. I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

Hannibal narrowed his eyes, and Will laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“Aren’t you going to tell me what you purchased for us?” Hannibal said, glancing meaningfully back at the bag and reluctantly adding space between them.

“Oh. Yes, champagne,” he said, pulling the bottle out of its wrapping and ice to hand to Hannibal, who held it gently and ran his eyes over the label before returning it to Will with a satisfied look.

“This shall be very nice.”

“And…” Will said with a long drawl, “the wine we had with dinner.” He pulled out two more bottles, the same that they had enjoyed up until minutes before they could call themselves engaged.

Lips parted halfway between a gasp and a wide-toothed grin, Hannibal reached out for one.

“One to hold onto for the memory and one to celebrate with,” Will explained.

Delicate fingers caressed the bottle as Hannibal, clearly very pleased with the gift, responded, “This is very thoughtful of you, Will.” He cast him a hooded look, the break in his voice giving away just how moved by the gesture he was as he teased, “What a romantic you are.”

“Mmm yes,” Will rolled his eyes. “How very lucky for you. Now, let’s go. We have a full night ahead of us.”

Hannibal drove them to a hotel a short distance away, grinning all the while, and together they parked and went to the front desk.

“We’d like to book a suite, please. For one night,” Hannibal told the man at the front desk.

The man nodded and looked to his computer for a moment before Will interjected, “Actually do you have the honeymoon suite available?”

Will cast a glance at Hannibal to catch the surprised look he knew he’d find, despite Hannibal’s control over his expressions, and smirked when he saw it, returning his attention to the hotel employee.

“We do, sir.”

“Great, we’ll take it,” Will informed him.

“Excellent, sir. It’ll be just a moment,” the employee told them before proceeding with the booking.

Hannibal turned outwards, positioning himself so that the conversation would be a little more private. “The honeymoon suite, Will? You really are feeling quite romantic.”

“Aren’t you?”

Hannibal smiled. “Of course. I’m just a bit surprised. It is only one night, after all, and we’ll have to leave fairly early to take care of the dogs.”

Will reached a sneaky hand around Hannibal, shielded from the view of the employee, his touch light against the sensitive side of Hannibal’s abdomen, causing him to shiver. He leaned in, just barely on the right side of the line for it to be considered too close for a public display of affection, and he softened his eyes and looked up at Hannibal coyly through thick lashes in the way he knew made the man melt. “I’ll call someone to drop by in the morning. I think we deserve to celebrate, my love.”

Hannibal paused at the seductive look and licked over his bottom lip before shuddering, remembering where he was. He whispered, “I would have thought a normal suite would be more to your tastes for celebration.”

Will hummed. “My… tastes are telling me that we should take every luxury we can get for a pleasant night and restful sleep. You’re going to need it.” He dared to inch closer, purposefully allowing his hair to brush against Hannibal’s cheek as he murmured the words against Hannibal’s ear.

Hannibal’s schooled reactions seemed to be no more, and Will watched with satisfaction as his Adam’s apple bobbed with the desire he knew he was inspiring. He couldn’t let his thoughts linger too long on Hannibal’s throat, though. They were still in public. He swiftly turned back to the employee, having been tracking his sounds and movements in the back of his mind, cutting off Hannibal’s chance to respond.

“And here you go,” said the employee, handing Will a single room keycard. “If I could just take your card, sir…”

* * *

When they get up to the room, glamorously positioned on the top floor, Hannibal moved around it, appraising. Will just watched Hannibal, taking barely a moment to notice any details other than: bed, good.

As soon as Hannibal had apparently deemed the room at least adequate, Will moved to the small kitchen the room was equipped with and found glasses for their champagne. Hannibal fetched him ice from down the hall, and Will did the honors of popping the cork off, grinning as it disappeared to some corner where the cleaning service would find it later on, if Hannibal didn’t get to it first, and they served each other generous glasses of the bubbly drink before putting the bottle in the ice bin.

They sat down on the plush couch that furnished the room, and Will curled himself into Hannibal’s arm draped around the back. A little less because he was uncomfortable than because he _was_ comfortable, Will used his free hand to undo the first few buttons of his shirt, watching Hannibal’s eyes as they flickered between his chest and back up to his face.

The passion between them since the proposal on the balcony had been so thick it was nearly tangible, but they both were delighting in delaying the inevitable, and Hannibal doubtlessly enjoyed Will’s riling him up. Every gaze Hannibal cast onto him felt like it was layered, viscous and pouring over every inch of his skin and feeding into his fire. He could only predict what he would do when Hannibal finally made him combust.

Hannibal held his glass up to Will. He purred, “To love, for it is which makes life worth living and which pleasantly surprises and challenges us. To two lives, intertwined for all eternity.”

Their glasses rang when touched together, and Will smirked at the prose. “To getting hitched!”

With a scowl that was overshadowed by a smile, Hannibal lifted his drink to his lips and drank, watching Will do the same. They hum appreciatively around the drink, enjoying the sweetness of it for its traditional use, despite it not being to either of their usual tastes.

Hannibal pressed his lips together in between sips and told Will, “Would you be surprised to learn that, should you have refused me, I was prepared to argue that you won’t have to testify against me in court if I were ever apprehended?”

Will scoffed. “That doesn’t surprise me _at all_ , and I think you know it. Stop with this getting caught bullshit. You know you’re not getting caught, and if you are, you sure as hell aren’t without me.” Hannibal dipped his head in acknowledgement of the fact, and Will remembered that being married would also help their profile, keeping them hidden. Killers were less likely to be successful with an unknowing partner.

When Hannibal didn’t reply and nearly imperceptibly deflated, Will went back over his words, realizing his mistake. He pressed himself further up against the man who certainly wasn’t pouting, but was showing a great deal more insecurity than ever before. “Hannibal,” Will stressed. “How could you ever think I would refuse you?”

Hannibal sighed, exposed in his show of insecurity. “In my experience, you have a habit of being unpredictable. Thankfully this time, you exceeded my greatest hopes.”

Will blushed, and despite feeling like he had failed Hannibal in giving any reason to doubt his love and devotion, felt the pleasure of their ultimately matched mirth at the outcome of the evening date. “I promise to be more predictable in the future.”

“Don’t go making any promises you can’t keep, Will,” Hannibal demurred. “Or any that make you other than what you are.”

“I forget, you _love me_ for my inconstant nature,” Will laughed. He pushed aside Hannibal’s glass, which Hannibal quickly moved to the other hand to make room for him. Will inserted himself into what little space remained between them and stretched his legs across Hannibal’s lap.

“I do,” Hannibal sighed contentedly, seeming to regret holding a drink at all as it prevented him from stroking the proffered legs before him. Instead, in an impressive show of the strength of his arm, he pulled Will even further up onto his lap before resting his hand at the curve of Will’s hip and thumbing the fold where it met his thigh.

Will’s heart fluttered at the possessive hold and at the words, which promised to echo in his mind on loop until he would hear them again. And they would be _married_. Something Will had never thought he would have for himself. Something he didn’t dare hope for. And when he did, what he imagined was nothing like what he envisioned now. Before it was only sitcom-esque flashes of domestic discomfort in which he imagined himself with someone who didn’t understand him and with whom he could never share his every thought.

“Hannibal,” Will pleaded, as tears he didn’t expect to be there were brought to his attention when he snapped back to the moment. “I need you to know that I am happy, happier than I’ve ever been, and I didn’t need a proposal for that.”

Hannibal’s smile looked almost sad, though Will knew it not to be. It was disbelieving, pure joy that Will wanted to see grace Hannibal’s face as much and for as long as possible. Hannibal told him in response, “I feel the same, Will. I am… more often than I would like, at a loss for words to accurately portray what I feel.”

Will curled a hand around the back of Hannibal’s neck, pulling their noses closer. “Then don’t say anything.”

They didn’t kiss at first, and instead they just breathed each other’s air, feeling each other’s warmth. Gravity pulled them ever so closer together, neither of them sensing the movement until the tips of their noses brushed lightly. Hannibal tilted his chin up, angling his lips towards Will’s and Will tilted away just an inch, drawing out the anticipation, until he heard the beginnings of a needy whine arise from high in Hannibal’s chest.

The sweet sound of it, Hannibal quivering in desperation, each little movement pushing himself towards Will so slight he was unaware of it, eventually made Will give in. He could no longer resist. The tempting man holding onto him as if his life depended on it, as if his kiss would be a breath of life, was something a man of the strongest will could not deny. And Will was no longer someone who denied himself.

He finally pushed back into Hannibal’s reaching lips, tilting slowly into the kiss so that Hannibal could sense every little bit of skin that finally came into contact with Will. Their lips slowly greeted each other, sending shivers down each other their spines, and their noses brushed once more. Everywhere they touched was maddeningly warm all of a sudden, as if they hadn’t known what warmth was before, only living in frigid, cold isolation.

Hannibal opened up slowly, letting Will dictate the pace as he slowly allowed more and more warmth to seek into the caverns of their mouths, the tips and sides of tongues masterful dancers familiar with all the right moves to make the other writhe and gasp in their close grip. Will felt Hannibal growing underneath him and groaned at the feeling, just what he wanted but not enough. He parted just long enough to put aside their drinks and throw himself over Hannibal so that he could straddle his thighs and feel him underneath, pressing their hips together in that satisfying way that finally felt perfect, finally close enough…

Until it wasn’t. Will was fed up with the layers between them and then Will needed as much friction, as much of the heat of bare skin against his own, more than he needed air. He yanked his own shirt off and attacked Hannibal’s buttons, both of them frantic, seeking lips the instant they were free, before Will realized the problem their pants presented.

He pushed himself off of Hannibal and the couch and beckoned Hannibal towards the bed. “Everything, off. Get on the bed.”

Hannibal quickly stripped himself bare, mouth hanging open and panting as Will did the same and watched him with a lion’s hunger. Hannibal lost the use of gracefulness and instead his urgency moved him onto the bed on his back, and he spread his legs, bent at the knee, as if Will were to grade him on speed and efficiency. Will, now free of constricting pants, took his dripping erection in hand and stroked it, just mindlessly weighing himself as he bore his gaze over the man spread out for him. Hannibal was tanned from their summer adventures, and where his skin flushed red begged to be touched, held, and squeezed. As much as he wanted to just take what was so prettily offered, Will relished in riling Hannibal up, and this would be no exception.

Will calmly approached the foot of the bed, achingly far from where he wanted to be, but he maintained a steady tread, like a hunting cat inching forward, close to the ground to avoid spooking its prey before it pounces. “Dinner, the restaurant all to ourselves. The ring,” Will said, raising his ring to show Hannibal, who gasped at the sight of it, as if just realizing it was new, it fit so perfectly. “It seems I have a lot to thank you for.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Hannibal replied, panting still.

Will’s lips curled into a smile at the breathless response. “But you won’t deny me, will you?”

“No,” Hannibal answered immediately.

“No,” Will confirmed. “I know what you need, Hannibal. Do you trust that your future husband can give you what you need?”

Hannibal’s eyes flashed and he let out a weak whimper at the words, the new, precious terms they soon could use on each other, and Will smiled even more greedily. One knee followed the other as he got onto the bed and crawled between Hannibal’s outstretched legs.

“Yes, Will, please,” Hannibal whined, and he arched his back, head propped up on a pillow to watch if his movement had the desired effect on Will. Anything to get Will to _touch him_.

The beautiful stretch of Hannibal’s bronzed skin over his hips and stomach as he rolled them were too much, and Will was licking his lips and on top of the man before he knew what happened. He went straight for Hannibal’s abs, grabbing him roughly on either side to still Hannibal, who gasped as Will kissed, nipped, and sucked the broad expanse of skin. His mouth trailed up, sucking one nipple between his teeth and swirling his tongue in a tight circle around it as his nails dug in at Hannibal’s side when the man writhed from the pain mixed with pleasure. Will parted with the nipple with one final nip before traveling up to the sensitive skin across Hannibal’s throat.

By the time he got there, Hannibal was moaning wantonly, but babbling with each breath he managed in between. He breathed his words, telling Will, “You don’t know how long I’ve imagined it, dreamed it. How long I’ve needed you, Will. Forever, Will, forever since I met you… oh! Since I met you. You’re like a dream, my only dream, Will… exceeded my… my biggest hopes, my only hope, Will, you are. You’re the only thing… only thing I’ve let myself want that I… Oh! Yes, that I didn’t know if I could have… Will!”

If his disjointed words didn’t make it clear, Hannibal’s body told Will of how desperately he had wanted this. Wanted Will. His every touch made Hannibal lurch and purr, the sound like a constant vibration coming from his chest. Will kept squeezing, putting his mouth on every patch of skin, from Hannibal’s wrists back to his shoulders and neck, generously giving love everywhere all the way down to the gloriously sensitive zone at the meeting of his hip and thigh, where Hannibal finally lost his words.

Will needed to feel him, get at the heart of him, do something that would fill his ears with Hannibal’s sweet sounds instead of the words that burned inside him with the most incredible ache of love, making him feel like he had to make it up to this man for every moment he hadn’t shown him affection, for every moment he hadn’t promised himself to him. He moved to Hannibal’s filled cock and licked stripes up and down it tenderly, before kissing and sucking onto the head in worship. He let it fall onto his tongue before moving up and down the shaft a few times, just enough to keep it slick for when he got to his real destination. Sliding Hannibal’s cock out of his mouth, Will kissed it once more to soothe the whimper Hannibal released at the loss. Then, Will lowered his head to draw a large circle around Hannibal’s balls with his tongue, darting every other swipe to stroke his perineum.

Hannibal was whining, high with anticipation as Will got closer and closer. Will met his eyes and reached meaningfully with one hand out to Hannibal. Thankfully Hannibal was not so lost that he forgot what this meant. He grabbed another pillow from behind him, keeping his gaze locked on Will’s as his mouth worked magic over the hot flesh between his legs, and he gave it to Will, who lifted Hannibal by the hips to lodge the pillow underneath him.

Finally, Will could taste Hannibal where he had so desperately needed him. With much less preface than usual, Will dragged his tongue over Hannibal’s quivering hole, and moaned at the pure taste of Hannibal’s heat. As delicious as any meal Will had shared with Hannibal had been, he never tired of this taste. He craved it, the same way he craved the way Hannibal pushed his most vulnerable self into his face, and cried out in pleasure, forgetting control, forgetting the world.

He circled the hole, lapped over it, prodded at it with a pointed tongue until it loosened and the slick of Will’s saliva allowed him to burrow inside. Hannibal’s entrance held him tight when breached, simultaneously pushing him out and holding him inside.

In deep need of their joining, sooner than he had intended, having gone into it imagining himself eating Hannibal out for as long as the man could take it and then some, Will allowed himself to get that much closer to being inside the man he loved by slipping a finger in alongside his tongue. Hannibal, so aroused that thought had been beyond him for several minutes, keened toward Will at the first stretch, his body demanding more, more, more. One finger quickly turned into two, and then three, as Hannibal’s insides gripped at Will, and Will gripped at the flesh of Hannibal’s ass in turn. Will had the urge to drag his ring finger across the skin in his grip, allowing Hannibal to push himself up and hold most of the weight as he moaned at the feeling of the cool metal against him, a wonderful reminder of the love they were celebrating.

Will had hoped to find Hannibal’s release, knowing the man had more than one in him in this state, before he slid himself in, but he was getting impatient to feel the tightness around his painfully erect cock, eager to lay over Hannibal again and kiss into his delightful mouth, which had been fueling his desire with the breathy moans and groans it had been letting loose nearly nonstop. Just as Will was about to take back the three fingers that had been on Hannibal’s prostate in a merciless rhythm, Hannibal cried out, “Willll!” and he was spilling beautifully onto his stomach.

Continually stroking inside him, but easing up on the throbbing prostate, Will scrambled up to lick the come from Hannibal’s spurting cock. Hands occupied, he cleaned up the rest with his mouth, vaguely aware of a bit getting in his hair and cooling on his face. Thoroughly a mess, he made eye contact again with Hannibal as he licked his lips of the familiar heady taste. Hannibal was nothing short of completely undone at Will’s attentions, and the look of adoration as he watched Will swallow down the last of his taste was staggering.

Will pushed up on his knees to take the beautiful man in a fierce kiss, and Hannibal moaned into it, tasting himself over Will’s tongue. The kiss is another wordless confession of love between them, but Will soon can’t help but need more. Despite a very short recovery time, Hannibal’s cock shows signs of resurgence, and his neediness for Will hadn’t diminished in the least. Rocking back onto his heels, Will spat into his hand and rubbed the moisture over his shaft as an extra measure, though he expected to find Hannibal just as slick and empty without him as before.

At long last, Will had his cock lined up at Hannibal’s entrance and had Hannibal ready, absolutely _yearning_ for him below him on the plush bed. Hannibal’s heat, his tightness, the very heart of him was _moments_ away. In one movement, he pushed in and through the rings of muscle.

Hannibal’s whine mingled with Will’s shocked gasp of pleasure and relief, and the need at the base of Will’s spine made him move, further in and in. Despite the fear that he’d come right away, the agonizing pressure threatened to make him do just that if he didn’t move at all. Slowly the pressure eased up as Will thrusted forward and back, Hannibal’s growing hardness bouncing against his stomach as he pushed his hips up to meet each thrust. Pressure turned to perfect friction as every inch of him was hugged and stroked by Hannibal’s insides.

Will leaned over Hannibal in exhaustion, the weight of himself too much when he had so much else to focus on. Instead he let Hannibal take his mouth in a breathy, mindless kiss, more brushing faces and mouths together than anything with design. Will was too focused on keeping his hips moving, chasing his release and listening for Hannibal’s gasp that meant he had hit the spot to notice that he was panting Hannibal’s name mixed with syllables that resembled “love” against his mouth.

Hannibal’s arousal must have come back full force as he was wildly trailing fingers and digging nails into Will’s back and hungrily holding and spreading his ass, the grip not enough as he moaned in a way Will would be chasing after for the rest of his life. Long, continuously, and punctuated by the head-on strikes against his prostate, Hannibal vocalized his pleasure freely until he was clenching tightly around Will’s cock as he spilled once more. The sudden pressure back again milked Will into his own blinding orgasm as he pumped his come deep into Hannibal. Both men were soaring at atmospheric heights, eyes stuck wide open as they watched each other come down.

Will’s mouth hung upon in a moan as he felt the last of him squeezing out into Hannibal. He sighed at the feeling of emptiness and the tight hold keeping him in before dropping from his forearms to full collapse onto Hannibal. There was no space for air or anything else left between them as their slick, flushed bodies overlapped in rest. Will buried his nose in the hair splayed behind Hannibal’s ear and his eyes slipped closed.

It was several minutes later before either of them were ready to move. Will slipped out of Hannibal, who turned to let Will spoon him until he was stopped. Not ready to have Hannibal facing away from him, Will said, “Towards me.”

Hannibal obliged and they wrapped limbs closely together, feeling their mixture of sweat between thighs and across chests beginning to dry. Hannibal’s ejaculate went ignored where it was pressed between them as they met eyes again, both sets relaxed now. Will thumbed over Hannibal’s sharp cheekbone, admiring the way the skin smoothed and stretched over the high point on his face as Hannibal devoted his attention to damp curls.

Hannibal sighed blissfully, before breaking their silence. “How lucky I am to be engaged to such an excellent lover.”

Will chuckled, “Very lucky.”

Hannibal smiled, and closed his eyes as Will’s thumb grazed its way to his eyelids, caressing each dip and curve.

“I kept thinking you were going to propose in Italy,” Will whispered.

Hannibal sucked in a sharp breath and waited a moment before releasing it. “Would you have accepted, then?”

Will huffed. “That was only two weeks ago, Hannibal. Of course I would have.”

Will’s thumb moved back down so that Hannibal could see Will’s sincerity and soft smile. Hannibal sighed, “I confess I was still rather unsure then what you would think. I was actually using the time there to scout wedding locations.”

Will stilled. “What?!”

“I was thinking of the Norman Chapel?” Hannibal’s smirk creeped up into place. “You seemed to have the most favorable reaction there.”

“How on Earth would we manage that?”

“There are ways.” He added no further comment.

Will rolled his eyes before pondering it, where there was certainly a question that Hannibal wanted a genuine answer to. “ _If_ it were possible, I would like that. It would add to the positive associations I already have with the place. I liked it because… it felt like home.”

“The foyer to my memory palace.”

“Yes,” Will confirmed.

Hannibal nudged forward to plant a fond kiss on Will’s forehead. “I have already welcomed you there. To marry there would join us even further.”

“That’s the idea,” Will joked, but he blushed with pleasure.

“Great,” Hannibal seemed overjoyed. “I look forward to making the preparations. I hope you won’t object to having the event sooner rather than later. With the end of summer comes more conflict. With your time and Abigail’s.”

“Oh! Shit, yeah, Abigail.”

Hannibal nodded slowly. “I think we are of like minds in preferring to have only those we truly cherish in attendance? Anyone else of lesser importance can simply get our wedding announcement.”

Will smiled. “You know me so well. We can have my dad come right? I really only care about him and Abigail being there.”

“Of course. Your father is actually precisely why I proposed when I did. I asked for his blessing.”

Will’s mouth dropped open. “You did _not_!”

With narrowed eyes, Hannibal assured him that he did. “I would not attempt to join myself to your family and start off on the wrong foot.”

“I was already on the wrong foot,” Will mused. “Your traditional values brought us back together.”

Indignant at the implication of being old-fashioned, Hannibal frowned. “You could just say ‘thank you.’”

“ _Thank you_ , Hannibal. I’m really glad you wanted my dad’s permission for my _hand_ in marriage. I assume he gave it to you?”

Aware Will was just poking fun at him, Hannibal scowled. “I might ask him to take it back.”

Will laughed, pleased at how perfectly everything was coming together. His thanks was genuine, as Hannibal had vastly improved his life, and now he was full of love he didn’t know he possessed the capability of, and he had multiple people in his life to share it with. “You know I just do this because I think you’re cute when you’re mad, right?”

“If only I could learn to be ‘cute’ when you are kind.”

Again, Will laughed, carefree, and Hannibal softened at the ease in his face. Will’s affirmation that the man was always cute went unspoken but heard all the same as they kissed lazily with passion the words couldn’t manage until they tired of it and drifted into sleep, still on top of the covers, warmed by each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might remember when I said this might be 2-4 parts… I really thought it’d be about 10k max, but I started off slower than I thought I’d go and I can’t speed up the pace now! I got caught up in the fun stuff. This chapter was supposed to get us until right before the wedding, but I am constantly proving myself wrong about how much I think I can fit in one chapter. And this is one of if not the longest chapter I've written thus far! We’ll just have to get there next chapter ;)
> 
> Enough rambling, many many thanks for the people leaving feedback on this!! It brightens up my whole week and I’m gonna miss you all when we finish!


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